HIM - D.H

Chapter Seventeen

*Third Person's POV*

Under the vivid light of the almost full moon, Scott and Stiles trek through the dark patch of the Beacon Hills preserve, one of them having a particular plan in mind.

"Where are we going?" Scott questioned.

Stiles exhaled, climbing over a few rocks, "You'll see."

Scott exhaled through his nose, "Cause we really shouldn't be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school."

Stiles scoffed, "Well, your mom isn't the Sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me."

Reaching the checkpoint that Stiles had set out for them to sit and chill, he turned to Scott who looked utterly confused and fed up.

"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?" Scott sighed.

"Yes! When your best friend gets dumped—" Stiles began.

"I didn't get dumped! We're taking a break—" Scott interrupted.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break..." He paused before reaching into his backpack and retrieving a large unopened bottle of Jack Daniels, "You get your best friend drunk." He smirked, mischievously.

Meanwhile, Scott eyed the bottle, his eyes not giving away his emotions, as he reaches for the bottle.

*~*~*

Setting the half-empty bottle down, with no telling how much time has passed, but long enough for Stiles to have gotten completely wasted. The two friends keep warm around a steel trash can with a blazing fire flickering inside.

With his eyes gazing up at the star-filled sky, Stiles sighed drunkenly, "Dude, you know... she's just one... one girl. You know there are so many... there are so many other girls in the sea..."

Scott, who sat irritable adjacent to his incredibly drunk best friends, "Fish in the sea," He corrected.

Stiles giggles, "Fish? Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, five-foot-three..."

Scott sighed, "Like Lydia?"

Stiles gleamed, "Yeah, exactly!" He paused before giggling, "Hey, how did you know I was talking about... about...What was I talking about?" He slurred.

When Scott didn't respond, Stiles eyed him, "Hey, you're not happy! Take a drink." He stated handing the bottle to Scott.

"I don't want any more," Scott grumbled.

"You're not drunk?" Stiles questioned.

Scott shrugged, "I'm not anything."

Stiles groaned drunkenly, "Hey, maybe it's like... maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know? Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf?"

Stiles waited a beat, "Am I drunk?" He giggled.

"You're wasted," Scott muttered irritably.

"Yeah!" Stiles beamed, holding his fist out for Scott but gets ignored.

"Come on, dude. I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know..." Stiles slurred, "...Well, I don't know. But I know this-- I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse."

Stiles attempted to process what he was saying before he shook his head and sat up, "...That didn't make any sense. I need a drink."

Stiles reaches for the bottle again, but another hand grabs it first. Stiles is taken aback, looking up in surprise at two older guys that insisted on ruining both of the teenagers' time with their aggravating attitude and presence.