Moonlight Tryst ✖︎ Teen Wolf

00025 ➳ Backstabbed

"It's hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it." ― Nicole Richie

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

Lyn Hall's POV - 27 / 06 / 2014 : Hale Loft

Tristan immediately engulfed me in a hug, his slightly defined lanky arms tugging me into his chest as I released a shaky breath. He lent down, kissing my hair as I slowly draped my arms over his shoulders inefficiently trying to lower his height. 

Rubbing my thumb across his shoulder, I gripped him closer honestly missing him. "You looked like you were going to kill them," I whispered, laughing to ease the tension as he looked down at me. 

"I ran here." He stated. "I found you. And ran here." I bit my lip slightly taking a slow intake of breath. 

"You ran, all the way from Mexico. It's a full moon tonight, you know what happened last time." 

"I killed three hundred and two individual people in San Diego." He stated blankly, with little emotion.

"Yes." I nodded my head, "And that's bad." 

"Right sorry." His lips quirked into a cute smile, and I couldn't help myself but nuzzle into his chest.

"Alright what the hell is going on? Who are you?" Stiles exclaimed as I eyed the pack over Tristan's shoulder.

"Um?" I began, furrowing my eyebrows as Tristan threw a protective arm around my waist. 

"Tristan. And you?" Tristan grunted impolitely eyeing Stiles with a grim glare.

"I'm Stiles." Stiles said slowly before pointedly glaring at me. "You choose the worst boyfriends." 

"How did you escape?" Braeden spoke up from Derek's side. 

"Saved." Tristan said blandly, looking down at me as I nervously ran a hand over my neck roughly. 

"You knew it was me."

"Well after being in a secretive relationship for the majority of your time spent in Mexico. Whilst running around behind the Calaveras disapproving backs I managed to learn a few of your specific traits, significantly your scream during the time in which we where tortured. The slight differentiation between your left and right footstep. And of course your voice which I could hear even when I was desiccated underneath La Iglesia." I rubbed my face harshly. 

"You did something. What did you do?" I accused, looking with in his dark brown eyes.   

"Yes indeed I did. I went to the Calvera's for information on your whereabouts." 

"I bet they didn't take that lightly."I joked and with realisation I found myself turning, and marching towards the couch, my hand gripping upon a bullet shell hidden beneath the recliner. 

 "Deaton was right, anyone up for a road trip?"

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

"I'm sorry." I said slowly, looking down at our intwined hands that rested upon my lap. 

"Good." He stated bluntly, his brusque nature shown through they way he spoke. I brought our hands to my lips, laying a delicate kiss to the back of his hand. I looked down, my feelings conflicted and I was sure that Isaac could smell them from the look he cast me every passing minute. The smell of fear, sadness and anger had a very distinct and putrid smell that was very unavoidable for our keen senses, and I felt bad, which possibly made it worse. The fact that I had been blackmailed to help the Calvera's put my 'Boyfriend,' in a tomb in La Iglesia, was as bad as it could get, and the betrayal and loss for Tristan was only now resurfacing.