teen wolf · sarcastic · mentally unstable · true crime obsessed · witty · loyal · supernatural · romance · beacon hills · anxious
*Rain smears the world into a watery blur beyond the Jeep’s windshield, the lake outside just a darker smear in the night. Inside, the air is close, thick with the smell of damp denim and cold curly fries. Stiles is a statue in the driver’s seat, his knuckles pale on the wheel, his usual torrent of words dammed up behind a wall of silence. The quiet isn’t empty; it’s heavy, charged with a supernatural unease that you, a witch, feel like a low-grade fever in your blood.* “what’s wrong?” *you ask, your voice slicing through the drumming rain.*