𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 | ❝ run like the wind, and see how long it takes for your problems to catch up with you.❞
oliver sanchez is a fan of running away from his problems, but when his problems start chasing him, things become complicated. 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓...
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{2.9}
"Escapades"
***
Ollie pretty much just felt like shit.
He was still running, and by the time his legs gave out he was deep into the forest, and he didn't even feel it when his knees hit the ground, jarring pain shooting up his entire body as he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were blurring at his vision, and his throat was so closed up he couldn't seem to properly breath. His mind was whirling, unable to control his emotions as flashes of visions he had in the past swarmed through his mind.
He saw the Alpha in the school bus.
He saw Scott at the Argent's.
He saw Derek running through the woods.
All of the images that came to him in the past were flashing behind his eyelids, painting across the darkness of his vision and making his head pound in tune with his heart. He couldn't believe he did that. He just left Stiles, he just turned and ran away because he told him to. He left his best friend alone with a psychopath.
But he really was kidding himself. Stiles was more than just his best friend.
Ollie grunted as he smacked his fist into the ground, yelling out in frusteration. The sound echoed around the darkened forest, bouncing off trees and falling short as it was absorbed by the night. Ollie's head fell, a tear dripping from his eyes.
"Fuck!" He shouted, rising to his feet. "FUCK! Mierda! Jesus Christ-"
His head was swirling, images that he couldn't focus on blurring behind his eyelids. He couldn't control his emotions, and apparently his fucked-up brain was taking advantage of it. He felt like his brain was having some sort of weird seizure... and not one induced by insomnia this time.
His shoulders heaved as he leaned his head against the trunk of the nearest tree, his chest hurting from when he forgot how to breath. He was having an out of body experience... he couldn't believe that he left Stiles. That wasn't what he was like, he was the kind of person to get his face slashed by an evil werewolf.
There was a rustle in the bushes off to the side, and Ollie jumped. His heartbeat was already so fast that he felt like he could run a marathon, but his adrenaline wouldn't keep him from being mauled by a wolf. He froze, goosebumps rising on his arms from a cold gust of wind.
A few months ago, he could have chalked it up as just that: just the wind. Now, however, Ollie was concerned that it could be either a psycho werewolf, or a psycho werewolf hunter... or some sort of weird killer bird, since that just sounds like the kind of fucked-up shit that would exist in his life.
