#xenigma

Send me a ✐ and my character will write yours...

5: a confession

Stiles,

It was me who stole your clothes while you were showering after practice the other day. Scott thinks I’m writing you an apology note right now.

Scott’s a sucker.

I’m not sorry.

( ≈ ) — { You just made someone happy. That someone being this poor, little rich-girl who’s lost in the world. Compliments don’t come easy—especially when you have mood swings that can take very sharp turns and can massacre a town in under 10 minutes. 

Not like she’s ever kept track, or anything. }

“Well, thank you. 

Put ‘I love you’ in my askbox and see how my muse reacts.

{ ≈ }——;; “I love you, too.”

                   I dare you to break my muse

{ ≈ }——;;                       “Don’t you fucking dare.”

{ There was not even the slightest possibility that he was dead. He couldn’t be. He was Stiles. And Stiles would never give up; much less to pieces of shit that dare to inhabit his mind. }

                                  “You’re lying. You’re a fucking liar!”

{ But if he’s lying, then why does she have this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? }

Send me ‘I want the K’ and I’ll generate a number

                    4: Forehead kiss

{ ≈ }——;; “No, no, no. Stiles! You can't die! You can't!”

{ How could she be so stupid?

                 Why did it take his dying to make her wake up?

                           Why hadn't she seen that it was him all along? 

                              Because I was blind.

She'd turned off her humanity for a reason: to save Stiles. Her emotions were getting in the way of her judgement and she didn't want that to keep happening. She'd been tricked by the nogitsune once—she wasn't allowing it again. Not only had that backfired on her, but she was going to lose him, forever. And in the time she had her switch off, she'd been a complete bitch to him and treated him like shit. Never once during that time did she regret it.

                       But now I do.

                           And I'm paying the consequences...

She's holding what's left of Stiles in her arms, pale and almost lifeless. They'd managed to extract the demon from him, but it was too late. The exorcism had had a negative effect on the male, and the nogitsune had taken part of his life with him. The rest of him is dying, and she can't stop it. }

“Please, don't do this to me, Stiles! I can't lose you!”

{ Tears are streaming down her face in heavy supply, clouding her vision. No matter how much she tries to wipe them away, they just keep coming back. Her sobs are at a minimum—that is until he dies. She cradles him as comfortingly as possible, one hand entangled with his, the other supporting his head. }

“There has to be something we can do! Anything!”

{ She gazes frantically around, the people accompanying the exorcism coming up fruitless. If they could perform that, then why not save him? Was death too complicated for those who had escaped it? }

“You fucking bastards! Don't tell me there's nothing! There's always something. Please! I'm begging you!”

{ Several heads shake in her direction, desperation rising tenfold in the ginger. It just couldn't' be. How dare they? Just before she can backlash with more swearing, the subtle squeeze in their interlocked hands brings her attention back to him. She sees his head shake the slightest, only to bring in another wave of tears and heart-wrenching sobs. }

“No, Stiles! You can't give up. We can't give up. Don't you remember? We promised each other to always be there, no matter what, for eternity. You'll be breaking that promise if you die. Please. 

                         —I love you.”

{ As soon as those words are uttered, she hears the last resonating heartbeat in his broken body, silence following. As both banshee and Hazel, she lets out a heart-breaking wail, shaking the interior and the people around her to their core. Hazel hugs his body close with both arms, sobbing into his cold exterior. She pulls back to see his face, serene and lifeless, in peace. Her own hand comes to cup his cheek, bringing his lips to hers for the last time. The warmth once there is no longer, only death. She separates their lips and plants one more gently on his forehead, wracking sobs enveloping her again.

        She's lost him.

                                   He's gone.