The Mage, The Wolf and The Locked Words of a Diary - The Black Wolf Diaries II

Chapter 2: Monday Blues

Key for this chapter:

Thoughts

Diary Entries

'Old dialogues memories, spoken out loud thoughts, white-scape moments...'

"White-scape dreams quotes..."

POVs

""Not an Actual Speech or Thought""

Warning: Alternative POVs decision

Monday 

14th, September, 2015

Ten AM

Stiles yawned as he walked to the library, he'd pretty much slept all of yesterday, after texting Derek, and he'd zonked off before he could think of doing anything else. Stopping at his locker, and rotating the dial on the locker, he yawned again once, before opening his locker, he pulled out a new notebook, he'd stowed away the last time two weeks ago, he grabbed the extra pen case and scratched his neck, almost without really thinking, he closed the locker door, and promptly jumped six feet in the air.

"Jesus Christ! Lydia, you scared me half to death!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry", she acknowledged but never quite made it possible to become an actual apology.

"So", he turned to face her head on, "Is this another ambush, should I expect Allison to pop up from nowhere?" he asked simply.

"I apologize for that. We didn't mean to just suddenly attack you, but we figured if we all attacked at once, you wouldn't be in a position to bolt. But then Derek Hale came from nowhere and you absconded with him, to heaven only knows where", she stated.

"You do realize you totally contradicted yourself right? And so, what do you want?" he asked sighing at almost annoying circle of it all.

"To apologize", she reiterated.

Stiles sighed, "I feel like this is something we've gone through before", he muttered and started walking.

"Don't be an asshole!"

Stiles paused and turned to face her, body carefully aligned so as to proclaim, he would not submit to her, he would walk away, and she would mean nothing.

"I'm an asshole, all of Beacon Hills knows, that. And yet we're going through this again. Tell me again, which one of us is jerking the other around?" he asked clearly.

Lydia flinched.

Several students paused and stared unabashed.

"I'll ask you again Lydia, what do you want?" he asked viciously, enunciated carefully, each syllable practically dripping with venom.

Lydia took a wary step back, much to his confusion, before she swallowed and answered, and "I had a question I wanted to ask", she started.

"Okay?" he prompted she get on with it.

"I-are we, I—"

"You don't stutter Lydia, Get on with it!" he snapped, patience practically thinner than a disposable string.

"Did we force you to run? To join the Library Project?" she asked.

"Is the sky blue?" he retorted.