Control [2]

3.

Stiles POV
After school i start walking over to Derek's loft. on the way there i turned on the radio and twenty one pilots came on in the middle of the song.

i try desperately to run through the sand,

as i hold the water in the palm of my hand,

'cause it's all that i have and its all that i

need, and the waves of the water mean

nothing to me,

but i try my best and all that i can to hold

tightly to what's left in my hand, but no

matter how, how tightly i will strain, the sand

will weigh me down and the water will drain,

i'm just being dramatic in fact i'm only at it

again, as a addict with a pen who addicted to

the wind.

God i love that song, Tyler Joseph is such a beautiful amazing human being.

I arrive at Derek's loft, and shut off the engine. I get out of my Jeep being sure to take the keys with me. Then i walk up to the loft.
i knock on the door. Derek soon opens it for me. "Hi Stiles," he spoke. "Hey Sour wolf," i said. i walk in, "So training?" he asked.
"Yeah let's get started," i said.

...

We did a whole lot of training for awhile, i winced a few times because of my cuts. The third time i winced Derek started to notice. "You okay?"
he asked concerned. "Yeah..." i trailed off.

He sniffed the air and looked at my arm. He stared at it in shock. Derek suddenly grabbed my arm and rolled up the sleeve. he traced the scars and new cuts the littered on my arm.

"why?" he asked.

"it's very complicated," i responded sadly.

"it's very hard to stop," i mumbled.

"i'm not saying just completely stop and pull a cold turkey, but try to stop for me, for anyone that you care about or cares about you," Derek said.

"Okay?" he asked.
"Okay." i mumbled looking up at him.