" dude, do you know
who that was ? "
" no . . . "
" that was derek hale ! "
𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 . . . katherine's life gets thrown into a whirlwind after she figures out that her best friends a werewolf. she's pulled into...
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𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝑓𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝
I groaned coming out of a peaceful sleep, hearing shuffling and loud talking coming from Scott's room. His voice was full of panic, but I wasn't fully conscious to notice. I rolled over, not aware of a care in the world.
"Isaac! Katherine! Get up! Wake up! I need help! I need your help!" Scott shouted. My eyes shot open to the sound of Scott screaming bloody murder. I jumped out of bed, wrenching open my door to see Isaac doing just the same. We looked to each other for a split second in fear and ran down the hallway. I yanked Scott's door open.
"What's wrong?" I asked, stumbling into the room with the beta. Scott had his lamp on and he was over by his dresser throwing on a jacket. Scott threw Isaac a motorcycle helmet.
"It's Stiles. Get dressed." My heart stopped.
"What's going on with Stiles?" Isaac asked, still in a sleepy daze. Scott paused for a moment to take a breath as he looked at us with sympathy.
"I don't know." His voice cracked. "Go, go get dressed." Scott didn't have to tell me twice. I ran back into my room and flipped the light switch on. I quickly began to strip of my pajamas, throwing on a pair of jeans and a black long sleeved shirt. I zipped up my brown leather boots and grabbed the first jacket in my closet I laid my eyes on. In no time, I was back in Scott's room.
"Okay, tell me what's going on." I hyperventilated.
"Stiles! He called me crying.. He doesn't know where he is, he thinks he was sleepwalking."
"He doesn't know where he is?"
"No. It's to dark he can't see anything. There's—there's something wrong with his leg." Scott stammered. I reached into my jean pocket and pulled out my phone, typing Stiles' number I knew by heart. My heart sank into my stomach when it went straight to voicemail.
"Oh my God, answer." I recalled the number only for it to go to voicemail again.
"He kept hanging up, saying—saying something like he had to go." My eyes grew wide listening to Scott.
"Isaac, let's go!" I yelled, stuffing my phone back into my jean pocket and throwing on my jacket. Isaac entered the room, finishing zipping up his jacket, and we all swiftly ran down the stairs and headed to the front door. As we made it to the living room, Scott's phone began buzzing.
