𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍
𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜.
𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎
𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛
Amelia Sealgair, better known and Amy, has lived most of her life in the town of Beacon Hills...
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"ALLISON, WHAT IS IT?" Amelia asked her as she entered the girl's house, worried to see her mother somewhere after what happened the other night. She knew Derek bit her and that woman was scary in his own, she couldn't imagine her with fangs.
"Well, after the party," Allison started as she closed the door behind the girl, looking at her, "I got a ride with Matt."
"Oh, shit, Matt."
After the whole deal with Stiles, Isaac, Jackson and Scott almost dying in the hands of Allison's mother and some wolfsbane cloud, she completely forgot about the whole Matt issue and how was she in a date with the guy.
"Amelia, that's not it," Allison whispered, scaring her a bit. The two walked upstairs towards the girl's bedroom and Amelia let herself fall onto the bed, while Allison stood in front of her. "He left his camera in my car and I got curious and started to look around the pictures."
"So? The guy's a photographer," she told her. "Were they any good?"
"Amy," she called her, surprising her. Allison doesn't call her Amy, she knows how much she hated the nickname. Amelia knew Allison wanted her attention. "He had... pictures of you."
Amelia placed one of her pillows in front of her, on top of her lap, looking at her friend.
"Of me? What kind of pictures? On the bench? Because I spend all of the lacrosse games on the bench next to Stiles."
Amelia was nervous. It's not an everyday situation somebody tells you that a guy you know has pictures of you.
"Yeah, and he had pictures of you in chemistry, talking with Isaac. Pictures of you in the hallways, in your desk at work."
Allison continued to describe all of the places Matt had pictures of her at, making Amelia's hands start to tremble. He had pictures of her and Isaac talking in her car just a night ago, when she thought he was inside waiting for her.
"And, he had a picture of you through Stiles's window in a... well, very compromising position with Stiles." The girl placed her hand on top of her mouth, starting to panic. "Amelia..."
"Oh my God, Allison..." she whispered. "Why does he have... Why does he—"
"I don't know," intervened the hunter as she sat in front of Amelia, grabbing her hands. "I don't know why he's following you, maybe he's like obsessed with you or something."
The idea of someone watching as she made out with Stiles in his bedroom when that was supposed to be a private moment made her disgusted. The idea of that comic guy that she shares French with being following her like a stalker made her shriver as Allison placed her hands around her.
Allison had no idea what to do. She had never seen Amelia this way, so defenseless, like she just received the baddest news every. She looked small, hugging herself tightly as Allison had her arms around her, hugging her from the side.
