Drabble - The Pack "There are few people whom I really love"

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You were staring out of the window. The buildings from Beacon Hills were passing by and you sighed while you saw the sign that you were leaving the town you had started to love so much.

It had been too good to be true. It had been too good to last.

You had moved so often that you had not even been nervous anymore for your first day at Beacon Hills high, less than half a year ago. You had already been prepared for having to have lunch alone, for having to work with the leftovers on group projects, for not being invited to birthday parties.

But everything had been different because Scott McCall had taken his job to show you around very seriously. He had invited you to sit with his friends for lunch, he had offered to work with you on a literature project for English, he had asked Lydia to invite you to the best party of the year.

Within a few weeks you had become part of the pack. You had been told about the supernatural beings roaming the earth, you had been asked for help whenever someone was in trouble, you had been spending hours and hours in the library to do research in books you would never have looked for.

And now it was all over again. Your adventure in Beacon Hills was over. Your friendship with the pack was over. Everything was over.

Once again you were moving towns. Once again you would have to start new on a new school. You were certain that this time there wouldn't be a Scott McCall, a Stiles Stilinski or a Lydia Martin. You were certain that you would go back to your lonely life. Until you would move again.

The pack had promised you to write you and to call you once in a while. But their lives were busy and it wasn't that unthinkable that at a certain moment fighting for their lives would be more important than staying in touch with you.

You felt a tear escaping your eyes. Since you had been moving so often you had never made any friends. You had never dared to make friends. But here at Beacon Hills it had simply happened and you had not even had to try.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" Your father stared into the mirror and you shook your head.

"There are few people whom I really love and you're forcing me to leave them behind." You swallowed, but the tears were now rolling down your cheeks. "I'm not okay."

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