Complete // Stiles Stilinski [3]

20

Stiles.

Stiles.

Stiles.

"What does that even mean?"

I jumped back, dropping the sharp rock in my hand I was using to scratch the word into the wall of the cave. The word that's tattoo'd in the back of my brain.

"Twice in just a few days, Scott? That's a lot for you. Here to lecture me to turn my humanity back on?"

"No, I need your help," He walked right up to the line of Mountain Ash.

"Well I'm gonna have to look at my schedule. I'm sure I can fit you in sometime around... never. Why should I help you when you've locked me in here to die?" I shifted and ran for him but was stopped by the Mountain Ash.

"I hate you," I growled at him.

"Hate is an emotion, isn't it? How can you hate me if you feel nothing?" He smirked, taunting me.

"I can kill you right now, and wouldn't feel a thing."

He laughed and shook his head. "I'd like to see you try."

"Challenge accepted," I ran and picked up a small rock, throwing it hard through the seal and scratched his cheek with it. 

He hissed and stumbled a bit, wiping away the blood.

"I could have thrown it through your head but then you'd be dead and I couldn't laugh at the look on your face."

"Can you help me or not?"

"I'm starving, Scott. And dirty, but above all those things... I'm bored. What else do I have to do?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture and threw it over the Mountain Ash.

"Explain this to me, if you've been in here for a month," he said.

I picked up the picture and looked at it. Confusion swept across my face as I examined it.

"Is this some kind of joke?" I threw it back and turned my back to him.

"I found it in my room. I remember taking the photo, but you weren't there." He picked up the photo and put it back in his pocket.