apocalypse ━━ stiles stilinski ³

1| senior scribe

THE DAY OF THE RAINSTORM MARKED THE START OF THE RUINATION. It would lead to the end game of their adolescence, the finish line of the shred of morality they had left. For some, it would lead to insanity. For others, the destruction of their purity. For one, a phantom haunting their being. And for everyone; rupture and partings.

If Juliette knew where she'd be in two weeks, what power shift would occur, she wouldn't have been late to today's senior scribe. Perhaps she would've came earlier to savour the calm before the storm.

In the now, the torrential downpour dripped over her car's roof. The muffled noises of the rain drizzling on the roof of her car and the car horns from agitated drivers filled her hearing. In impatience of the traffic, she turned on the radio to drown out the car horns. She switched the channels to avoid any news reports, and settled on a throwback romance station.

       Her phone buzzed. It was Stiles calling her, no doubt to chide her timing. Hesitantly, she answered. "You're late." He immediately said.

      "You're the one who taught me how to drive." She recalled the summer nights they spent in an empty parking lot, which composed of an endless series of Lydia screeching in horror in the backseat as well as Stiles in the front seat shouting out instructions in panic. "If you didn't do that, I never would've bought a car, and I would've come with you in the jeep. So if we're looking at the technicalities, it's really your fault—"

       "Ha, really funny." She could almost sense his eye-roll from the restless tone of his voice. "Kira's also stuck in traffic, and Scott's god knows where, Malia won't even answer her phone— next thing you know, we're all off to college and no one even bothers to text the other—"

       Juliette shook her head, lost. "How do you go from point A to point Z with no further details?" She asked genuinely. "Please tell me you're not still worrying about the losing your high school friends in college stereotype?"

       Stiles took in a heavy sigh before responding. "Did my dad ever tell you about his high school group of friends? They spent their entire lives together and the moment they went to college, poof. Never talked to each other again."

       Dating Stiles meant dealing with distinctive, insatiable mind that tends to run it's wheels perhaps faster than it's supposed to. Juliette learned how to be there to balance him out. "Did your dad's friends have to defeat a thousand year old trickster spirit? Or escape a mental asylum twice, fight off a handful of assassins when they were on a hit list? Or go on two road trips to Mexico—"

      "Point taken." His tone lowered to a slightly calmer, less anxious note. "You can't tell me you haven't thought of it either."

      "Okay, I admit this isn't the ideal situation but..."

      "Not ideal? Not ideal is the Chinese delivery guy mixing up our soy for chilli sauce, but this is a friendship ruination starter–"
    
      "I'm going wherever you go." She stated determinedly. "Maybe that's a little too co-dependant, but hey, never psychoanalysed myself before and won't start now." She sighed as her eyes roamed around the cars in front of her. "I'll call you when i'm there."

       When she ended the phone call, she couldn't stop thinking about what he said. You can't tell me you haven't thought of it either. The truth was, she hasn't.  Juliette had a habit of avoiding any topic that related to her future. She was lucky enough to have only a few classes thanks to her taking double the amount of credits in her home schooling year at Eichen House. It wasn't the grades, nor the stress of picking a career that was the vexed question she'd evade— it was the haunting notion of what if.