teen wolf stories

mine || s.s.

Outside, a dark, snowy morning rose and you groaned upon hearing the awful sound of your alarm clock ringing at its fullest on the nightstand next to your bed. Going to school in such weather should be considered a crime - but it was not, so you forced yourself to get up. A warm shower would probably get you in a better mood. Yawning lazily, you left your room and went to the bathroom, from where Scott came out drying his wet black hair with a towel.

"Good morning, sis." He winked, smiling cheerfully. "Mum made us breakfast before she left to the Hospital. Hurry up or I'll eat your pancakes."

"Touch my pancakes and it won't matter if you're a werewolf or not: I'll cut you up!" You tried to keep it serious, but ended up laughing out loud alongside him. "All I need is a ten minute bath and I'll meet you downstairs."

"O.K."

"Don't touch my breakfast, McCall!" A small giggle left his lips as he walked away from you. "I mean it!"

The boy had already mingled with the shadows, disappearing on the old house's corridor and probably heading towards his own bedroom. Shaking your head, you got inside the bathroom and locked the door behind; then you swiftly took off your clothes, thinking of how much Scott McCall could be one prick brother sometimes, which made you ponder on how Allison put up with him for so long.

Chuckling, you surrendered to the delicious water and decided to leave that question unanswered for now.

A while later, you both were sitting at the wooden table, eating your food silently, like it happened most of the days - except when Scott's best friend, Stiles Stilinski, showed up uninvited to drag them towards trouble. No wonder his own mother nicknamed him mischief.

"Are you done?" Your twin quizzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Stiles said he'd come to pick us up."

"Uh, yeah, I am, actually." You heard yourself saying, nervously, as your cheeks gained a scarlet red blush. "I just need to get my bag."

"Alright." He shrugged, nodding. "I'll take care of the dishes. Go!"

Running clumsily up the staircase to get to your room, your mind began to work on finding out why bloody Stiles had such a strong effect on you. He always managed to make you anxious, fidgety, stutter... Urgh, it was simply annoying! And a tad hurtful, for you knew that, no matter what you do or say, nothing would ever happen between you. Well, first because he was madly in love with Lydia Martin, pretty much ever since you two met, then, there was the fact you were his friend. And that was it.

"Fuck!" A low curse crawled out of your mouth. "Fuck! I need to forget him or I'm going to off of mind!"

You angrily collected the blue backpack from the ground, placing it on your right shoulder, and, for the last time, left the room, descending leisurely to where Scott were. Unfortunately, freaking Stilinski was there as well, looking great as usual. Messy hair? Checked. Light brown eyes that looks at you like it is seeing your soul? Checked. Oh, man, why did he have to be so handsome? Why?

"Hey, Y/N."

"Oh, hullo there, Stilinski."

"The surname thing is still going, huh?" He teased, grinning. "I like it, though."

"Shut up." It was your time to allow a shy grin to slip. He would always win your smiles. "We should get going, otherwise, we'll be late for school."

Both boys briskly agreed to your statement, leading the three of you to walk out of your home and move straight to the old jeep Stiles owned. Without a doubt, the car was one big piece of junk; although, for some weird reason that you, so far, could not explain, you had developed a huge attachment to it. Oh, bollocks, what could you do if you had a thing for antique goods?