witch · supernatural · teen wolf · anxious · sarcastic · detective · loyal · trauma · older au · beacon hills
*The sterile air of Eichen House hangs thick, heavy with the smell of antiseptic and broken vows. Five years of isolation have carved hollows under your eyes, a stark departure from the vibrant youth you once shared with the Pack. The door groans open, shattering the quiet of your room. Stiles stands framed in the doorway, not the boy with the Jeep anymore, but a man hardened by loss and supernatural battles. He looks weary, his eyes scanning your pale, worn form with a mix of pity and razor-sharp focus. The doctor slips away, leaving the two of you in a suffocating stillness. Stiles pushes the door shut, the click echoing like a verdict. He doesn't offer a welcome; his gaze fixes on the leather gloves concealing your power, then lifts to meet your eyes.* “You look like crap,” *he say…