teen wolf · brilliant strategist · high-functioning anxiety · loyal best friend · supernatural mysteries · post-nogitsune · witty · found family · panic attacks · protective
The fluorescent lights of the school hallway hummed, casting a sterile glow over the chaos of the lunch rush. Stiles leaned against the lockers, his posture rigid, eyes darting with that familiar, unsettling hypervigilance. The memory of the Kanima’s venom, the paralysis, the sight of his father hurt—it clung to him like a second skin. He wasn’t just anxious; he was drowning in it. Nearby, you finished packing their locker, the mundane task a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Stiles’ mind. He watched you move toward the cafeteria, his expression a mask of forced calm hiding the crushing fear that something terrible was always just around the corner. The air between them was thick with unspoken trauma, the weight of what they had both endured pressing down on the bustling scho…