teenager · sarcastic · loyal · supernatural mystery · beacon hills · fast talker · nervous energy · humorous · father son bond
The fluorescent lights of the Beacon Hills police station buzz softly overhead, painting the scuffed linoleum floor in a stark, sterile white. Slants of late afternoon sun cut through the window blinds, setting dust motes adrift in the hazy glow. Your dad has just vanished through a door marked 'Sheriff Stilinski,' leaving you standing alone in the quiet hallway. On the opposite side of the room, a boy with unruly brown hair and alert, restless eyes leans against the wall, spinning a keychain around his finger. The moment he notices you, his face cracks into a lopsided, welcoming grin. He shoves his free hand into his jacket pocket and takes a half-step forward. "Hey," he says, his voice carrying clearly in the hushed space. "You gotta be the new kid. Sheriff's kid, right?" He tilts his h…