born to die [teen wolf]

[twenty seven] he was my, bestfriend....

'✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

Aires pov...

In reality, I'd been in Beacon Hills for almost twenty four hours, but to me? It felt like I'd never left. Beacon Hills was sinking its claws back into my skin, and I couldn't do anything about it. I could reject it all I wanted, and I was doing that. Ignoring the truth, ignoring reality.

I was strong, too damn strong. Without my humanity, I could've been anything. A monster, a weapon, a villain- the hero. I could've been moulded any way. Beacon Hills was tipping my balance though, and I couldn't ignore that. I could only categorise and compartmentalise for so long before I fell victim to the insanity this town had always forced upon me.

So even though it was stupidly suicidal, I went to the only place I knew I could breathe without the eyes of someone else looking to me- the Hale house.

I stepped inside, ignoring the way the phantom ghosts were pricking at my skin with the reminder of the memories that were made within the walls. I was running on fumes, no blood, no rest. And even though I had been through my worse, put my body through more stress- I couldn't ignore the truth. I was being drained. I hadn't had blood in days- too many. And being around warm blooded people wasn't the best idea given my track record and the fact that I didn't have my humanity on.

And besides, I needed a place to scheme.

I had Malia lapping the woods, Isaac and Theo keeping the others contained, and Malia's words in my head. She was onto something when she mentioned an arena. And since she had mentioned it, I could finally put a word to the weird feeling that had been cursing through my veins. I felt fifteen again, being hunted. And when I looked at the bigger picture, it added up. Only some things didn't.

If Gerard knew we were in Lana's house he would've blown it up without hesitation, or even set it on fire seeing as he had always had a weird kink for it. But he hadn't touched it, and yet the woods still felt like an arena. Almost as if we were trapped in some kind of Hunger Games.

I hadn't been into the town, hadn't crossed the border, I'd been in the woods- the place I knew better than anyone. I knew the insides and outs of it, the best hiding places and everything within it. I had the advantage, and yet I still felt on edge. I didn't like feeling toyed with.

The second I stepped past the door frame I could feel someone's eyes on me. A chill rolled down my spine as I bit down on my tongue in an attempt to stop myself from exploding, but it was useless. I could smell him too well. The second he stepped around the corner I wrapped my hands around his neck and slammed him against the wall. Was he suicidal?

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed with a murderous scowl.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles threw back in my face, and once again, we were at each other's throats.

The audacity.

"It's my house."

"It's nobody's house anymore." He croaked out, making me drop my hold on him and take a step back.

His eyes were narrowed on mine whilst his hands balled into fists as I levelled him with a look. And he levelled me with one of his own, making goosebumps suddenly break out across my skin. For a second, I saw a flicker of the boy I used to know. The one who would get mad at me for stealing Roscoe. He was furious with me, and it was written all over his face. The face I knew how to read like a book.

It was infuriating- he was infuriating. When was he going to drop it?

"When are you going to let it go?" I snapped with a shake of my head.