CHAPTER THREE: oops! sacrifice gone wrong, part one.
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Heather had no idea what day it was anymore. Despite all of her mother's protests, the blonde did nothing to move from her spot at the bay window. Her brown-eyes, swollen from crying, carefully watch raindrops race down her window. She cuddles the Build-A-Bear her and Gwen made three years ago closer to her chest. She heaves in a deep breath, her body wanting to cry out the pain once again but her eyes just can't seem to produce anymore tears.
She takes in a shaky breath. "God," she whispers to herself. She wanted the pain to end so badly. She wanted to scream and shout; she wanted to turn back time, but most importantly, she wanted to talk to someone-- but the only person she wanted to talk to was dead.
A knock on the door takes her away from her thoughts. "Hey," a soft and familiar voice echoes through the room.
Heather adjusts her sitting position, pulling her knees under her. "Hey," she replied sadly.
Stiles takes that as a queue to enter her room. He slowly walks forward and takes a seat opposite of her. The two teens bask in the silence that surrounds them.
Stiles fidgets with his fingers. "How are you?"
Heather gives him a dry look.
"Yeah, stupid question."
Heather shakes her head, letting the silence envelope them again. "I can't believe it's real," she whispers.
Stiles looks up, meeting her eyes. He gives her a slight nod to continue.
"I can't believe she's gone. I mean... I don't know what to do. I don't know how to... everyone is like 'losing a best friend is hard' but it..." She takes in a breath trying to stop herself from sobbing again. "It doesn't feel like I lost a best friend. It feels like I lost a piece of me, like a part of me is empty and gone and I am never getting it back," her voice breaks.
Stiles ushers the sobbing girl into his chest. He pulls her in tight and slowly brushes her hair. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut, despite the fact that he was hurting he just couldn't seem to conjure any tears. It worried him, he wasn't sure if the supernatural was desensitising him or if he just forgot how to process emotions because he never has time to anymore. Ever since Scott had been bitten it was one thing after the other and neither him nor his best friend ever got time to truly mourn not just all the lives lost, but their own.
"Hey," Stiles' soft voice tries to lull the girl's attention away. "What if we-- what if we have one of our movie nights? Just like how we used to."
