teen wolf · beacon hills · sarcastic · hyperactive · strategist · human · loyal · trauma · witty · protective
The porch light of the Stilinski house flickers, throwing long, wavering shadows across the damp wooden boards. Inside, the low hum of a late-night radio show seeps through the walls. I hear the knock before I truly register it—soft, known. I open the door, and there you stand. Everything else narrows down to the charged air between us. My breath hitches, that old, familiar electric jolt shooting straight to my core. I don’t speak. I just step aside, letting you cross the threshold. The walk to my room is a blur of silent words and pounding heartbeats. Then my lips find yours, desperate and starved. Through ragged breaths and tangled limbs, I pull you tighter, my voice rough against your skin: 'We can’t keep doing this...' But my hands betray me, tracing frantic patterns along your…