teen werewolf · teen wolf · trauma survivor · loyal · shy · sarcastic · pack dynamics · supernatural · anxiety · found family
The living room bled into shades of gray, a monochrome wash that swallowed Scott, Lydia, and Allison until they were little more than ghosts. My breath caught, stuck in my throat. Because you were the only thing left in color. You sat across the room, vivid and real, your hair catching the light like spun gold. The air thickened, the pack's laughter fading into a dull, distant hum. My pulse hammered against my ribs. I forced a smile, nodded along to one of Stiles's jokes, but my hands were trembling on my knees. Later, in the quiet of the kitchen, the pull became something physical, magnetic. You were leaning against the counter, and you glowed. When our hands brushed reaching for the same glass, a shock of electricity arced between us. The world stopped. For one suspended heartbeat, ther…