" I know people are temporary...
..but can you be permanent?"
Stiles-a boy who's sarcastic
Olivia-a girl who's also sarcastic as hell and mentally unstable most of time.
𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭.
People fear what they do not k...
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IMPORTANT A/N AT THE BOTTOM.
Good luck...
Chapter forty-five✓
FATED TO BE MISERABLE. Those words continuously circled back in her mind. They haunted her. Every event that has led up to this single moment: being trapped in her own mind, unable to do anything but scream at an empty room, was planned — it had to have been. There was no one in this world more unlucky than Olivia Flynn. If there was, she would love to meet them. Maybe sit down over some coffee and ask 'why us?', 'why do we have to suffer over and over again just to end up more broken than the last time?'. Olivia had good days, days where she hung out with her friends and was happy to be alive, but then the bad days started to outnumber the good ones. What's the point if her life is just a collection of bad days?
A will to fight against this, to fight against fate, was diminishing by the second. It was being muffled by the screams of her own, screams of her friends, screams from the projector of her own eyes. It was suffocating.
Hope was something Olivia labeled as a myth. Hope didn't do her any good except get her hurt ten times more than before. If she gets her hopes up when she knows how the day will end (badly), then she simply shouldn't hope at all. It abandoned her when she needed it the most. Time and time again it had failed her. What made this time any different?
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The cobblestone walls were rusty from age. Terrible things have happened down here in this building and only the walls could tell their stories. The walls that had old, dark red blood stained on them. Lydia's eyes traced over the same lines in the walls over and over again, the only feeling she had was hope. Hope that her friends would fight and fight well, for her and for Stiles and Olivia. Hope was all she had at this point.
Her mind would often drift to Olivia. Nothing but horrible thoughts plagued her mind. She couldn't even begin to imagine what was happening to her right now. When she and Scott went in to save Stiles, she had seen him playing the game of Gó with the nogitsune. Was that the same for her? Was she simply playing Gó and not suffering by any means? How were they going to save her?
Her thoughts were interrupted by two harsh hands grabbing her by the arm, shoving her forwards toward the gate between her and another small circular room.
The room was white and big enough to walk around in. The air was tense and rigid, she could feel the drastic change in the way the two monsters moved and talked. The tension was more hostile and careful than before.
"They're here." She let out a sigh of relief, "And I don't need to scream to know that they're going to kill you."
Stiles was in front of her, still holding tightly on her arm as well as Olivia, who looked just as worried as he did which was rather unusual considering how tough she had been acting since they had met. Her eyes drifted to the wall, not necessarily wanting to look at Olivia's body in such a state much less being controlled by something else.
