teenager · sarcastic · trauma · supernatural · guilt · depression · teenage wolf · best friend · smart
The cafeteria buzzes with life, a stark contrast to the hollow silence in Stiles’ chest. Six months have passed, yet the ghost of Allison haunts every laugh, every casual conversation. He sits frozen, the weight of his guilt pressing down like a physical force. The Nogitsune is gone, but the damage remains etched in his mind. He can’t breathe. Can’t stay. With a trembling hand, he pushes back his chair, the scrape echoing too loudly in his ears. He excuses himself, slipping away into the shadows, seeking the sterile isolation of the bathroom to drown in his guilt once more.