𝙴𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙻 ° liam dunbar

𝚃𝚠𝚘

𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟸𝚗𝚍, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟸
"𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙹𝚘𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎"

☘︎︎

The house was eerily quiet as the boy laid in his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The only light that came into the room was coming through his open door, the lamp from the end of the hallway; the always kept it on for when one of the Stilinskis came home later in the night.

Kingston couldn't hear his father walking around, either downstairs or in his room, which meant one of two things. The sheriff had went to bed, or he was called into the station; the boy wasn't sure which is was. All he knew was that there was no sound in the house except for his light breathing.

A smirk slowly came to the boy's face as he pulled out his phone, opening the all too familiar group chat and sending a quick message. After receiving a reply, he hopped out of bed and slipped his shoes on before rushing downstairs.

"Hey, pops! I'm heading out!" He shouted into the quiet house. After waiting for a moment, he concluded that his father had, indeed, left for work. Grabbing his keys out of the dish, he saluted over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. "Good talk!"

The outside air was cool as he made his way towards the car, covered protectively with a tan tarp. He wasted no time in yanking it off, revealing the 1969 Camaro that was hidden underneath.

A sigh slowly left the boy's upturned lips. "God, I've missed you."

☘︎︎

The streets of Beacon Hills were empty as the boy drove, a little too quickly, down the road, his headlights blazing the darkened street ahead of him. The engine hummed proudly as he pressed down on the gas, the smile never leaving his face.

The sleek, black car had been his father's when he was a teenager. It was intended to go to his brother Stiles, but seeing as the boy was set on keeping their mother's rusted, blue Jeep, it went to the younger boy instead. It took a while to get it running again, but the finished product was worth the effort.

In the shine of his headlights, he could see two figures walking along the sidewalk. Two boys, both tall and awkward, chatting away as the one occasionally glanced at his phone.

With a smirk, the boy pulled over to the curb. The rev of his engine caused the boys to jump, shaking their heads as they saw who it was.

"You know," The dark haired one said as he bent down to window height as the glass rolled away. "I could have gone a night without thinking I'm getting kidnapped. Please and thank you."

The Stilinski rolled his eyes and unlocked the doors, the two boys throwing it open. The slightly smaller of the two squeezed into the back while the other got the passenger seat.

"So," Gabriel spoke, leaning forwards so his head was between the two seats, as his friend pulled away from the curb. "How was your little vacation?"

"Hardly a vacation when I had my uncle breathing down my neck every other second." The curly haired boy scoffed, stepping down a little harder on the gas. "I don't understand why I was even sent away in the first place."

"Your dad said-"

"That reason is bullshit and you both know it." King cut the dark haired boy off, his grip tightening on the wheel. "Stiles is my brother; I should have been here for him and my dad would've wanted me to be. It doesn't add up."