ripples // teen wolf [2]

10 = Poison & Prisons

I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did then Malydia.

Song - Little Lion Man // Mumford & Sons

WARNING - This chapter contains violence and just generally gets really, really heavy man. Seriously, you guys are going to think I'm a psychopath. Happy reading!!

Celeste's POV

        "This is fine."

        Celeste had a serene smile on her face as she looked out beyond the peak of the cliff she and her friends were currently standing on, her cheeks and the tip of her nose pink from the cold.

        "Celeste-,"

        "It's fine, everything is totally fine," Celeste's smile grew wider and more forced, "It's not as though my friends just called me out of school and brought me to the middle of nowhere and informed me that we are now fugitives hiding a kidnapped rich boy in the back of a stolen police van with the cops chasing after us or anything. I feel fantastic."

        "Why don't you just go back to school, yeah?" Stiles looked at her, concern shining clearly through his whiskey eyes, "We don't all have to go down for this. I don't know, I guess we just thought you might know what to do. You're Celeste. You always know what to do."

        "Stiles, just earlier today I accidentally tripped over a guy and pulled on the handle of the fire alarm to try and stop myself from falling," Celeste sighed out, "I literally never know what I'm doing at any time in any moment of my life."

        "Did you really?" he looked at her imploringly.

        "Yeah, it was bad," she nodded somberly, "the boys' soccer team was in the showers after practicing when we had to evacuate."

        "It even doesn't matter," Scott growled out, his nerves obviously running on high, "because no one is going to go down for this."

        Celeste let out a delirious laugh, looking up towards the sky to keep herself from whacking him on the nose with a newspaper or something.

        She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout at him that yes they were, damn it, and she also wanted to cry because even the thought of how her mother would react sent shudders down her spine.

        "You cold?" Stiles fretted, "Here, take my hoodie."

        "I'm okay," she denied his offer quietly.

        "No, really," he pushed, "I wore two today because I knew you would forget to bring a jacket-,"

        "I said I was fine, Stiles," she spoke a little louder, her voice coming out with a little more edge than she intended, instantly flooding her with guilt.