❖
SEND ME A ❖ AND MY MUSE WILL KISS YOURS
Sitting at the edge of the pier, Stiles throws his handful of rocks, one by one. He watches them skip for a few beats before they sink, pebble after pebble. He contemplates the blood running down his arm where a stray arrow nicked him, rubs his thumb against each rock to smear it red before he throws it. There's a moment in which he wonders if the disease flowing through his veins would be contagious.
Cocking his head to the side, Stiles glances over at the girl beside him, still and silent.
Allison's always looked so beautiful, but Stiles hasn't ever had the guts or the chance to really come out and say anything. Now he doesn't have need of shyness, he doesn't hesitate to reach out to brush a pretty dark strand from the girl's forehead, not caring that he left a streak of blood in the wake of his thumb.
Even that looks beautiful. Stiles can't help but smile as he brushes his finger across her lips next, gazing into her eyes as he leans down to press their mouths together chastely. He doesn't even flinch when Allison's lips are too firm, too cold against his own.
The taste of blood makes the voice inside his head sneer and scream as scratches at the walls of his mind as he thinks, but it takes Stiles a long moment to actually realize
he's the voice.
