Blissful Burn ➳ Stiles Stilinski [5]

We're All Unhinged

Everything's different. Why? I don't know ask the people who have been freezing me out. Everyone besides Malia.

Which is scary. God, I feel like I'm back in Eichen trying to tutor her on emotions because frankly, she's my only friend right now.

Brett's been too busy to be a friend. Stiles, Lydia, Scott, they're all hiding something. And once again I don't know what it is.

And apparently, even if Malia does she isn't freezing me out like the rest of them. I'd like to say Liam isn't either but every time I see him I want to throw up because he's eating his girlfriend's face off.

I despise love. Or at least love that consists of swallowing each other's faces off in public.

Get a club, or a room.

Oh and Parrish? He hasn't been answering many of my calls. Not about Argent. I think he's too busy with things at the station.

"What about–what's this—" Malia snatched a Polaroid off of my wall above the desk. "This?"

The past few odd nights Malia and I gathered at night away from the pack to help track her Mom.

This was one of them, unfortunately.

But I'm starting to like hanging out with her. Like every time she earns an eye roll I'm starting to smile.

It's like I'm stuck in my own personal nightmare.
And I like it.

I sat cross-legged on my bed studying the printed images of the people Malia's crazy biological mother mauled while looking up the different injuries on my laptop.

"France, before junior year," I answered taking a quick glance at it before going back to the gross picture. "That's Allison and me after I got my second tattoo."

"Where?" She asked examining me.

I kept my eyes fixated on the sheet in my hand and moved my t-shirt lower so that my left collarbone was revealed.

It took her a second but she finally managed to read what was marked on there.
"Bravery. Ambition. Cunning. What the hell is that?"

"Argent. Jenson. Skyler. All three things I tie to my name," I then lifted the bottom of my shirt and lightly tugged down my pyjama pants to reveal my hip bone. "My Mom didn't want to be an Argent. She chose her own path. That's the symbol she chose to mark her weaponry with."

Malia eyed the ring daggers sat on my desk and then looked back at my tattoo. "It's good you can get your mother tattooed on you. I killed my Mom so it would be kind of rude. And tattoos heal."

Wow, that's a lot of emotional package she seems too comfortable with to expose. Good for her.

"Should I say sorry?" I questioned.

"Not really," she shrugged it off. "Sucks about the tattoo bit though."

"They're a bitch if you have to have one burned into you," I reminded trying to ease off the fact that she did kill her mom. "Besides, I told you I'll help make the desert wolf pay for what she caused you."

Malia nodded instead of verbally giving me her gratitude. "Any more tattoos?"

"Yep," I lifted my hair to one side to reveal the French written in a curved style behind my ear. "It's French so you won't be able to read it," I said as she began squinting. "It's our new code. Allison's."

"She seemed to of left an imprint on you," Malia muttered as she stared at the other Polaroids hanging above my desk.

"Her death hit us all," I paused to lift my head in her direction. "Shame you didn't meet her, she would've kicked your ass."