love drunk [2] ⇻ stiles stilinski

too good at goodbye

[ start of too good at goodbye ]

  PRESSING THE GAS pedal below her, her shaky hands on the steering wheel, Eleanor did not bother to look back at the house she had just fled from as she sped off.

  Her sadness and guilt were bricks on her chest that deflated her and caused her to breathe heavier the more she thought about it - she knew exactly what was happening and yet still paid no mind to it. Empath's had a hard time controlling their feelings when something as bad as this had happened.

  The waterfall tears leaked profusely from her eyes, a reminder of the British weather back home and they became bloodshot and puffy as she realised that she couldn't stop them. Street lamps and headlights surrounding the car merely became streaks of light blurred together with the passing scenery and her vision endangered her as she continued to speed.

  Eleanor felt alone now more than she thought she ever had; she had lost Allison, her best friend, because of her careless actions and her feelings towards Stiles. If she weren't to have become involved with the boy in the first place, maybe nothing like this would have happened. Allison would still be here.

  The young girl missed the brunette hunter more than she'd like to admit to anybody else. Eleanor didn't like talking about how she felt of Allison's death, mainly because she worried that everybody would still blame her; she still remembered what she had done to her, she remembered being trapped in her own body as she enjoyed that moment. It made her feel nauseous.

  Caring about near to nothing, Eleanor was speeding past the legal limit, her thoughts corrupting the responsible and knowledgable traits she usually had. Her vision became increasingly worse as the time passed and the music playing from the car radio merely because background music in her own emotional breakdown.

  Stiles was Eleanor's best friend and the person she trusted more than anyone - he was the only one she could ever truly count on and he was the first person she had ever truly fallen in love with, thinking that she wouldn't get hurt; the more she thought about him, the more it ached.

  She had persevered through his own Lydia obsessed stage and all of the other mysterious happenings through the past few years and she thought she had finally earned her chance with him. Seeing him with Malia confirmed her worst fears.

  Her knuckles turned white as she gripped at the steering wheel and it seemed as though as everything had finally caught up to her as she struggled to catch her breath.

  Eleanor knew exactly what was happening, she had been in the position several times before - she was having a panic attack and it was all part of the anxiety coursing through her veins and ripping her to shreds.

  She was angry. Angry at herself, at Stiles, at Allison for leaving, at her friends for not telling her the truth. Eleanor bit her lip and hit her hand on the steering wheel in frustration and all it took was one sharp turn for Eleanor's car to skid of the road and land her in a very uncomfortable position on the side of the curb.