#mieczlw.

               FURY HAD OVER TAKEN YOUR LITHE FORM before he had come to stand in front of you. Sure, you wanted to leave, wanted out, but Stiles was bigger and, frankly, stronger than you. Escaping seemed impossible at this point. Besides, you didn’t want to use aggression against someone who you’d come to care so much for. Your face contorted into a displeased pout, though the second you felt lips against the skin of your forehead, you felt your knees begin to wobble. How had he known that was your ONE notable weakness? You relent, slumping against his torso, hands gripping the sides of his shirt. Your head rests against his chest and you make a pitiful noise in response, “Don’t do that.” You mumbled, grumpy at just how EASILY he’d defeated your anger, “It isn’t fair.”                                                                                                        

               HANDS ARE RED, GROUND BENEATH HER FEET SCORCHED. Eyes well with tears and she shakes her head. She had been so good at hiding it, so good at making sure no one knew, but she still managed to mess up. How could this have happened? “Nothing, everything… It’s fine, Stiles.” She climbs to her feet, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve, “Leave it alone, please.”                                                                        

                    SHE FEELS WEIGHTLESS, it’s strange. Moments before, her limbs felt as though they were full of sand, but now, she felt as though she was made of air. Had she fallen asleep? She certainly was exhausted. Running seemed to take a lot out of someone. Heavy eye lids lift as bloodshot hues settle upon a familiar face, brow knitting in concern. “Stiles?” She breathes and finds herself gripping the front of his flannel, soon realizing she’s being cradled against his chest. “What are you doing? Put me down.” Protests are weak and her eyes betray her, slinking shut once more, “I can walk by myself…” She mumbles despite being unsure of whether or not the words really came from her lips.