𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐

♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬-𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 ♡

♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 seventy-seven

two lies and a truce.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

STILES STILINSKI shuffled along the tunnels, fidgeting with the flashlight in one hand and pulling at his phone with the other. 

"Hang on," he paused mid-walk as a certain maneater's initials lit up in pixels. "Let me just take this real quick."

It didn't take a genius to know who it was - which was something Scott McCall most definitely wasn't. "Is that Dallas? If it is, ideally, you should hang up."

"Wow, thank you for that fascinating relationship advice, Scott. When I'm done, I'll make sure to ask all sorts of questions about you and Kira."

Scott tutted and took the hint. Stiles gave him a thankful nod before stepping aside and pressing the phone to his ear. "Not a great time, Dallie."

The Siren in question sat up in her bedroom, still nestled on her windowsill and watching the endless pattering of rain. "It's nice to hear your voice. I was beginning to wonder if you were dead. It put a total dull on my mood."

"You can imagine how I felt yesterday then."

Dallas reached for her chest to fiddle with her necklace. It was something she only ever did when she felt the unwanted anxiety creep up on her like a forgotten ghost. To her dismay, it no longer hung around her neck. Just hiding deep beneath the grooves of Stiles Stilinski's pocket.

"Stiles, don't be mad at me." She heard him inhale sharply and hugged the phone closer to her face. "It makes me crazy. Monstrous and screaming bloody-murder crazy."

Stiles paused for a moment, his own thoughts as thick as the air around him. "I always liked that kind of crazy."

She replied; half-tender, half-teasing."It's not the kind of crazy you can handle. Believe me." 

 "Really?" Stiles exhaled another deep breath and glanced around the tunnel with a smirk. "I think I've done pretty well so far."

He was her safe haven, her rock, her everything. No matter how much life tried to tear them apart, she knew that Stiles would always be the one to see her through.

Her teeth bared into a sharp grin. "Not when I eat you, you won't." her tone was sickly sweet. "I could just be saving you for last, you know?"

Stiles squared his shoulders while eyes twinkled with amusement.

 "So long as I'm your last, I don't care." he replied with a smirk, voice thick with innuendo.

Sometimes Dallas felt her heart was made of stone. Something kissed and cradled by a gorgon before being buried beneath her ribcage. It made her chest heave and ache terribly. Often, in the dead of night, it'd hurt to hear it try and beat. It would never do it correctly - not since she woke up in a morgue that one time - but it'd try, frustratingly, to pump moss into her bloodstream and spin spiderwebs across her hollow bones.