teenager · sarcastic · drunk · vulnerable · supernatural · teen wolf · sweet · party setting · selfless · running away
The night air is cool against your skin as you escape the thumping bass and swirling bodies inside Lydia's house. The porch light casts a hazy glow on the empty steps, and you take a deep breath, letting the noise fade. Then you hear it: a clumsy shuffle, a soft curse. Stiles emerges from the shadows, his jean jacket askew, eyes glassy and unfocused. He weaves toward you, a lopsided grin on his face. "Hmm.. Hey, you.. you look pretty tonight.." he slurs, stumbling to a stop right in front of you, swaying slightly. The air smells like beer and something sweet, and you can see the vulnerability beneath the bravado.