Ombres

Cursed

Stiles held the new phone Derek had given him. It was a beautiful gift, but it reminded him how far apart they were. They had been apart all day since their encounter with the mysterious woman. Stiles was starting to feel restless. The wedding was only two nights away, and he wanted to spend every last moment with Derek. But time was running out, and Stiles started to feel like he was losing him.

Stiles tried to find out where Derek was, but the servants wouldn't tell him. They kept quiet and avoided him. It made Stiles even more frustrated. The house was busy and lively, but it was now silent. It felt like the walls held their breath, hiding secrets Stiles wanted to know.

Scott wasn't around much anymore. He would disappear for a long time to meet Allison or go with Deaton on his research. The mansion, filled with their laughter and friendship, was now empty and silent. Even the friendly servant who had greeted them on their first day had disappeared. Stiles felt abandoned.

The vast corridors and echoing halls mocked him, making him feel even more alone. Once decorated with opulence and grandeur, the rooms now felt like stifling cages. It trapped him in his anxiety. Every second that passed, they made him feel more uncertain about the future.Stiles's mind was racing with questions. He was feeling doubtful and frustrated. He didn't know what had gone wrong. Had he accidentally offended Derek? Stiles wanted Derek to be honest, even if the truth was painful. He wanted Derek to look him in the eye and tell him what was wrong. The silence between them was making Stiles feel more and more anguished. It was like an invisible wall. It was growing more and more impenetrable with each passing moment. He felt he was being kept out like he didn't matter.

Stiles was left alone with his thoughts. They were like a maddening chorus. It whispered insecurities and paranoia into his vulnerable mind. Doubt became a relentless shadow, following him everywhere he went. In the darkest recesses of his fears, he wondered about their connection. Had it been nothing more than a fleeting illusion? The cruel reality threatened to consume him.

Stiles' heart was hurting. He wanted to bridge the gap between him and Derek, but their distance grew. He felt like he couldn't breathe like there was a weight on his chest. He wanted to see a sign that their bond wasn't broken, but every second that passed made the divide wider. He felt like grasping at the sand, trying to grasp a connection slipping away.

Stiles took a deep breath to try to calm down. He was feeling different emotions, and they were all making him feel uneasy. Stiles sighed. He opened his bedroom door, ready to talk to Derek about the tension that had been building between them. But when Stiles opened the door, his heart started to race. He felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. "Derek!" he reprimanded. His voice was shaky. Hand instinctively reached for his pounding heart.

Derek entered the room with a powerful presence that seemed to occupy all the space. He crowded Stiles, standing in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. Stiles felt Derek guiding him towards the bed, almost with some force. The soft bedding provided a comforting sensation when he lay down on the bed. It was quite different from the intense atmosphere in the room.

"You need to stop slamming me into surfaces," Stiles tried to force a smile. But the seriousness of their situation made it difficult. Derek made a grunting sound in reply, not stopping his actions. He focused on Stiles's neck. He increased the intensity of his touch, causing Stiles to feel a fiery sensation. At the same time, Derek removed Stiles's clothes. It left him naked and feeling unprotected.

At the height of desire and urgency clouding Stiles's mind, something like an invisible force drew him to the painting above the hearth. The painting of the former Mistress of the House, and she seemed to stare right at Stiles. Her eyes were piercing, making Stiles feel like she was judging him. He felt a chill run down his spine and knew he had done something wrong. The painting seemed to tell him that he needed to change his ways.