Mieczyslaw Mikaelson (HELP WANTED)

Chapter 7 (Pack Meetings And Other Torment)

Hey, this chapter is dedicated to  Angelic_Sprinkle because they actually inspired the end to this chapter and the next few chapters. So, cheers mate! :) 

And God this chapter is twice the length of my normal chapters and I am very proud of myself.

Because on the table.

Were dandelions.

Mieczyslaw POV

I hear Noah's voice rise from downstairs, and slowly—sluggishly—I get up, out of bed. I look pointedly away from the flowers on the nightstand. Trying to cut off my emotions.

Kol was always the one that could do that, never I.

I ignore the thought and look down noticing I was still wearing my clothes from last night. I clench my eyes before trudging over to the dresser. I get on some new clothes, barely registering anything, let alone what I put on.

I go to the bathroom connected to my room and look in the mirror. Deep shadows were under my half-lidded eyes, my lips chapped, and my hair mussed. All unsurprising.

When I know I am decent I open the door. The shadows on the wall seem to dance from the sunlight coming from my room. The world feels slow. It feels as if the sounds and colours of the world were dull. It was so unlike my usual feeling of magic in the air. 

Being a heretic things were always vibrant, my connection to the earth powerful, a bond between nature and me. And with my vampire abilities, the world jumped out at me, my senses heightened and amplified.

I gradually started heading down the stairs and the voices quieted, hearing me. 

I saw Scott sitting at the kitchen table while Noah was standing up aggressively fists slowly unclenching as they both stared at me.

In Noah's eyes, I saw pity. Scott's eyes, however, widened comically in confusion at my messy state.

"Stiles..." I heard Scott whisper in puzzlement.

My cold damaged eyes cut over to him. He stands up hands displayed in a placating motion.

"Look," He glances down, ashamed, "I know we kicked you out of the loft but you are still in the pack, Stiles. We are not deserting you." I flinch, and Noah puts a hand on my forearm, "We just need time to process. And I... I did not realize it would affect you this much." He says glancing up and down at me and my appearance.

"Well Scott, not everything is about you is it," I told him bitterly. He draws back, giving me a wounded-puppy look. I immediately regret the words but the feeling is dim and I do not care enough to think about it.

"I-I am sorry that I let Derek force you out of the loft, Stiles. And I think this new 'witch' thing is kinda cool. I just want to be best friends again..." He says shifting on each foot.

"Best friends, best friends. God, Scott. If only I could ever be so naive, so oblivious to the death around me." I sneer at him, "You do not even know half of what is happening right now. You do not comprehend what is going through my brain."

Scott's eyes flash gold instinctively and he squeezes them shut, trying to get the colour to go away. After a moment he looks up, hands wringing; pulling and twisting at each other in nervousness.

Remorse flairs through my witch and human side for yelling at him. However, on my vampire side, all I feel is disgust, a natural rival-feeling between vampires and werewolves. Ever since I had been turned I recognized how werewolves and vampires were always irrationally at odds with each other.