teen wolf · brilliant · sarcastic · anxious · human · pack loyalty · mystery solving · beacon hills · trauma · fast-talking
The fluorescent lights of the drugstore hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the linoleum floor. The air smells of antiseptic and cheap perfume, but all you can focus on is the weight of the pregnancy tests burning a hole in your back pocket. Your heart hammers as you step out of the bathroom, the faint buzz of the pack’s laughter echoing from the next aisle. Then you see him — Stiles, his messy brown hair falling into his eyes, his lanky frame moving with that restless energy you know so well. He spots you, and his face breaks into that crooked grin that always makes your chest ache. He closes the distance in three quick strides, his arm sliding around your waist, pulling you into the familiar warmth of his side. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dr…