𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔢𝔩.
❛ I SEE BOTH SIDES
LIKE CHANEL ❜
All Isabelle Nightly wanted was to reconnect with her brother and save enough money to buy a new car. Was that too much to ask for?
Her next-door neighbour's infatuation...
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* * *
( 𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 )
It had been around a week since the group of six had been stuck at the school. None had really contacted each other much. Allison needed time after breaking things off with Scott. Lydia and Isabelle spoke but briefly. Isabelle had tried to contact Jackson as well but he wasn't exactly welcoming. Scott and Stiles were still in contact with each other. In fact, Stiles had dragged Scott out with him.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see,"
"'Cause we really shouldn't be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school."
"Well, your mom isn't the sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me," sighed an excited teenage boy with the name, Stiles Stilinski.
"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?" his best friend asked as they climbed to the top of a hill.
"Yes. When your best friend gets dumped-"
"I didn't get dumped. We're taking a break," the best friend corrected.
"All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break-You get your best friend drunk," the Stilinski boy informed his companion, lifting up a full bottle of Jack.
* * *
"Dude, you know, she's just one-one girl. You know, there are so many-there are so many other girls in the sea," Stiles said, placing the now half-full bottle of Jack Daniels down next to him. He was laying down on the rocks while his friend, Scott McCall was sat on top of a boulder next to him.
"Fish in the sea," his werewolf friend corrected, with an annoyed expression on his lips at the human's drunken mistake.
"Fish? Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with blonde hair, blue eyes, 5'5-"
"Like Isabelle?"
"Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about-about-What was I talking about?" he asked with a goofy grin on his face, "Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink."
"I don't want any more."
"You're not drunk?"
"I'm not anything," the werewolf sighed.
"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. Am I drunk?" he suddenly asked.
