{Latin ^ Meaning... Don't do it.} Monday, February 7th 2011 {Day 30}
{Words: 4886}
Out in the hallway...
"Stiles," Morwen said softly, trying to keep the mood light to avoid upsetting Scott further.
Freshly dressed, Morwen caught Stiles' gaze, and he greeted them with a grin. "Hey, how are you doing? Did I freak you out earlier when I held your hand?"
Morwen raised a finger, signaling for Stiles to pause. "First of all, take a deep breath before you speak. And don't worry, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I would let you know if you did."
Stiles let out a relieved breath, visibly easing up at Morwen's words. They exchanged nods of understanding, a silent agreement passing between them. Together, they walked towards Scott's room, ready to face whatever awaited them.
Before entering, Morwen playfully punched Stiles' shoulder. "Surely he's alright," they said, their voice carrying a hint of optimism.
Now in Scott's room...
As they entered the room, Morwen noticed Scott still struggling with the shackles, and a heavy sigh escaped their lips. "I was wrong," they admitted, their voice laced with remorse.
Stiles, holding an open bottle of water, spoke up bluntly. "You didn't mess up, Morwen." He filled a dog bowl with water from the bottle and placed it carefully on the floor next to the bed. "I brought some water for you."
"You didn't, Stiles," Morwen assured, stifling their amusement at the dog joke to show empathy for Stiles' distress.
"But I did," Stiles muttered, tossing the empty water bottle into the garbage. Without warning, he grabbed Morwen's wrist, unintentionally transmitting his pain to them as he dragged them along.
In the commotion, the dog bowl flew into the air, soaring past them and bouncing off the wall. Reacting swiftly, Morwen broke free from Stiles' grip and enveloped him in a tight embrace. With one hand around his waist and the other resting on his head, they offered solace. "Everything will work out, Stiles. Mistakes were made, and there will be consequences. But for now, let's focus on getting through tonight. When you're ready, we can talk or choose to express our thoughts individually. Does that sound okay?"
They stepped back, a faint grin on their face, their eyes fixed on Stiles with intensity and understanding. They wanted him to know they were there for him, offering support and a listening ear.
It was as if time stood still, isolating them in their own private moment. Stiles took a deep breath before abruptly retracting, halting at the doorway, visibly struggling with his emotions. "You know what, I prefer the second choice."
Meanwhile, Scott's enraged voice echoed from his room as he continued to wrestle with his handcuffs. "I'm going to kill both of you!"
"Stiles-" Morwen began to interject, but it was too late. Stiles spun around in a fit of anger.
He spoke hastily, his fury palpable to Morwen. "You kissed her! The one girl... And for the past three hours, I've been telling myself it's just the full moon, that he doesn't know what he's doing, that he'll be back to normal tomorrow."
Stiles knelt a few steps away from Scott, no longer concerned about the possibility of his best friend attacking him. "He probably won't even remember being a complete and total Escoria, total Bastardo, Hijo de puta, terrible piece of tonteras-" Stiles' voice trembled with anger, his words dripping with frustration.
