ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ - ꜱᴛɪʟᴇꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟɪɴꜱᴋɪ

𝟚𝟛

After hours of watching movies and relaxing in bed, Alex finally jumped from the blankets and stretched, acting like her bones weren't made of air or some ghostly substance.

"If you don't want to smell like aged Doritos in front of everyone at Lydia's party, you might want to take a shower." She wrinkled her nose while the dirty blond boy gave her a blank stare.

"Party?"

She nodded, raising an eyebrow while tapping her finger on the calendar, where - next to spring break - a note was in red ink, saying "Lydia's Birthday Party!"

His eyes widened as he groaned. For an unknown reason, he felt more tired from lying in the same spot all day than when he had first woken up. He had assumed Derek would show up at some point for another lesson or at least messaged him - before Alex had reminded him about the full moon.

"You need to get that memory checked out, Sammy." She stated as he rushed to his drawers, ruffling through them for some adequate clothing.

"Bottom drawer, under that mound of hoodies," She spoke up after watching him scramble helplessly for another minute.

Sam yanked the handle so hard he thought he might have heard a slight crack, flinging hoodies left and right before discovering the white button-up shirt and black pants. They had to be at least a year old, he wasn't sure he had ever worn the clothes, but he grabbed them anyway, giving Alex a thankful glance and dashing to the bathroom to shower as she flopped back onto the bed.

Around 20 minutes later, the door opened again, and out he walked while tugging on the top button around his neck. Sam's hair was sticking out at different angles but didn't look half bad.

Alex smiled her once rare but now common, soft, wistful smile, standing so that they were a foot apart. "You look perfectly snazzy,"

"You don't look so bad yourself." He laughed. She had changed into 80s jeans and a t-shirt, her hair with braids going into a wavy high ponytail.

"Believe it or not, this was the outfit I wore when I went on the first date with the love of my life." She said, momentarily causing Sam's mind to travel back to what Derek had informed him about the werewolf's mother's sibling.

"Derek said something about them, Charlie, right?" He said hesitantly, not wanting Alex to close up about it how she had used to do.

"Yeah." She sighed. "Charlie was absolutely gorgeous, funny, and witty. And a powerful werewolf, but they wouldn't hurt a soul."

"What happened?"

"The hunters got to them before I did."

As Sam slowly shifted over to the bed, an atmosphere between them that had become more familiar over the passing weeks arose - although it felt more balanced than remorseful.

She slowly let her ghost hand fade into his, unable to feel each other but close. They used to do this whenever he had nightmares that weren't his own when he had been younger, flashes of rage and power from centuries before his time.

Now - instead of drawing him from his dream, it drew him into one, and as he closed his eyes, he was soaring through the air, feathers ruffling with the wind. Soon he was diving down to the ground, and as he braced for the impact, he felt his claws elongate into legs, and his wings become arms, and then he was running towards a person who lay curled up in a sea of red.

Tears were clouding his vision, and he could barely make out the arrow shaft sticking out of the person's neck, short blond hair spread out in a halo around their head.

He felt a far-off pain hit his side, and soon someone was pulling him back, dragging him away from the body as he heard gunshots.

Then the air shimmered again, and he yanked his hand away from a frozen Alex, who slowly turned to him. "How did you..."