love drunk [2] ⇻ stiles stilinski

vii. frayed

[ start of frayed ]

  EMPTINESS WAS SOMETHING THAT Eleanor did not feel often. Being a werewolf with even more power, the power that came with an empath, her abilities were almost always heightened.

  Especially emotions.

  However when something as traumatic as this had happened, it was the least expected from her to communicate or even explain what she were feeling. It was though she was burning from her inside out - yet she felt nothing at all.

  She could barely feel the pulsing, radiating wounds that scattered across her chest and back. Eleanor could only faintly hear her friends speaking behind her at the back of the school bus. The young Hale's attention had been lost.

  Her head lay on the window of the bus carelessly, allowing her head to gyrate as she listened to the low hum of vibrations. Eleanor sat with her hood covering the majority of her face, slumped to the side, a vacant seat beside her.

  She wanted to be alone.

  Silently and reluctant to pay any attention at all, she listened to the conversation between the boys behind her.

"Okay, next word - Darach. It's a noun." The word made Eleanor wince as Stiles continued. "C'mon, we gotta talk about sometime, okay? And we're gonna be stuck in this thing for, like, five hours, so why not?"

When there was no answer, the brunette boy sighed. "Fine, next word. Intransigent."

"Stubborn, obstinate."

Eleanor scowled at the boys. Why they were practicing for their SAT's when something as tragic as this had happened was beyond her.

She winced in unison with Scott as the bus ran over a pot hole in the road. Unlike Scott, Eleanor had the advantage of hiding her pain and her expression.

"Scott - dude are you okay?"

Jaden bit his lip. "We shouldn't have come. I knew we shouldn't have come."

"We had to." Scott persisted in a low groan, adjusting his position in the uncomfortable bus seat. "There's safety in numbers."

"Yeah well there's also death in numbers; it's called a massacre - or blood bath, carnage, slaughter, butchery..."

The aderall enthused boy trailed off into silence as he realised that nobody around him was nowhere near impressed with his words. Stiles looked down at Scott's wound under his tshirt and sighed as there was no reply from the werewolf.