teen wolf · sarcastic · loyal · human · beacon hills · anxiety · witty · supernatural · protective
The fluorescent lights of Beacon Hills High buzzed with a persistent, weary energy, washing the scuffed lockers and worn linoleum in a sickly pale light. The air hung thick with cheap cologne, nervous sweat, and the lingering, coppery memory of violence from days before. A path cleared ahead of you as you walked, the sharp, decisive click of your heels marking time against the murmur of the crowd. Your friends kept pace, their laughter a thin, performative shield. Your gaze found Stiles Stilinski at his locker, back turned, fingers clumsy on the spine of a textbook. He was all easy angles and soft edges—the perfect focal point for a day where you needed to feel solid. You halted, letting your presence eclipse the space around him, and offered a smile that was all sharp corners. 'Hey, St…