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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ─── DREAMS ARE NOT MEMORIES!
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ORION SINCLAIR WAS POUTING. To most, it probably looked like nothing out of the ordinary. It might've looked as if she was bored. Or perhaps just her natural expression, which tended to be a bit of a pout. But Stiles knew Orion. Not as much as he would've liked, but enough to know something was off. From the way her plump lips were folded upside down, her serene eyes droopy, and her forehead was creased. It was clear something was bothering her as she stepped off the bus, heading toward the boys.
Stiles observed Orion closely as she walked up to him and Scott, furrowing his brows at her somber expression. "Hey, you all right?" he asked, prompting her to look up from the ground.
Orion's features softened at the sight of him. "Yeah, I'm fine. My bus was just really late," she muttered, recalling the less than decent morning she'd had before quickly turning her attention to the werewolf next to him, who wore a wounded expression. "So, the dream. What happened?"
Scott felt his muscles tense as he remembered everything, sucking in a breath. "Well, Allison and I were here──at school for some party or something. And we snuck onto the busses to make out, and then we──"
"Hold on," Orion cut him off, lifting her finger. "Please tell me this isn't going where I think it's going because...ew. I don't need to know that much," she mumbled with a disgusted look.
Scott groaned, and Stiles laughed. "No! We didn't do anything like that," he clarified as they walked up to the door. "I shifted, and then I...I started ripping her to shreds," he hesitated to say, swinging the door open.
"So, you killed her?" Stiles quired for confirmation, holding the door open for Orion. A silence followed while they trailed behind Scott, his uncertainty evident.
"I don't know," Scott shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh. His voice was dubious as he continued. "I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."
