@lcstpaws-blog / lcstpaws-blog.tumblr.com

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                        braeden gets it. can’t fault malia for doing what she felt was one of her only options. the bitter taste of betrayal is just going to have to be something the werecoyote learns to stomach. ( even though theo wore betrayal, rather plainly, on his smug face. )   don’t be sorry. it got us this far.   it got them this much closer, and it was only a matter of time before it all came to a head.   it looks like i’m stuck here a little bit longer.
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                   ❛ it did. ❜  despite the fact that they made it out, part of her did harbor a twinge of guilt for falling right into the mess that she should have been able to see had she not been so determined. looking back was pointless though, especially considering what they had to look forward to.  ❛ it’s not a bad thing. i still need you—if you’re up for it, i mean. ❜

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                it’s been more than just a long day. a build up of days, finally tuning into a week. a full week of being far from beacon hills only to have to turn around and get their asses right back. driving on through the night wouldn’t help either of them, but it’s his silence that no doubt drives up the tension. no more than a few words in response to the messages braeden sends. ( or the messages from their friends; messages that they both ignore. )    i get it.   goes without saying that she shouldn’t feel the need to apologize to him, over something so small. they’re on the same page, for the most part. scott pays mind to keep the door open, stands in the door frame while taking in the dingy motel room.   you can stay here while i get us a bite to eat.   not so much a question, but he’s not going to stop her from changing his mind.

                        heavy steps bring her to sit at the edge of the bed. the entirety of her situation was least to say, overwhelming. she’s contemplated over and over again if this was the right thing to do or not, but every passing second she starts to falter, she remembers that day. losing her mother and sister. losing eight years of her life to her own wildling heart. it made her blood boil hot underneath her flesh, and she knew for a fact that scott stepping out wasn’t going to help. ❛ i’m not hungry. ❜ how could she be? her appetite wasn’t exactly at it’s peak with everything. ❛ do you think you could stay? you don’t have to, i know you were going to get food, but— ❜ she just doesn’t want to be alone. she’s had too much time with just her thoughts as is.❛ just for a while. ❜

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                    his hands shake something furious, and you don’t know how to stop them, don’t know if they belong to a killer or a lover, or if there’s even a difference anymore. / his shadow dances with yours in the streetlights; your darkness has found a kindred spirit, but you are still trying to take the fear from his mouth. / demons and angels are at war inside of him, and you swear to love every single one, swear to love him wicked, swear to love him holy. / he is licking prayers he stopped believing into your mouth; if you thought kissing him would save him, you were dead wrong   ◦ ◦ ◦
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"There’s no getting over you."

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                    It hits her with full force. a mock of a relentless blow to the stomach that leaves her gasping for the same air that despised the taste of her lips. she missed him, and it was so far beyond incontrovertible. that wasn’t much of a secret. pretending that he didn’t matter as much as he does was a facade even her own mother saw through, after all. she understands that in a sense, his words only stretch so far along the truth. that if he tried hard enough, he COULD get over her, just like she could get over him. they were strong. if there was one thing she’s learned in the last few months, it’s that humans can heal, regardless of how long it takes. the only problem was, she wasn’t letting herself.                    it was clear now that neither was he. ❛ stiles—— ❜ IT’S SO DIFFICULT. words are rushing through every corner of her mind and she can’t seem to grasp them. it’s something she hates about being human. the complexity of putting feelings into words, but having everything weigh down on them. how he could react so differently depending on what she said ( believe that she has an infinite amount of things she would like to say to this boy ). she allows her gaze to falter; to sink down to her feet and avert themselves from him. instead, fixes on the impulsive motion of her hands reaching out to him. too consumed in the way her fingers curl around his loose fingers.                      ❛ i never tried. ❜ it’s quiet. a low mumble laced with a familiar sense of warmth. one that she’s used to using with him. one that she hasn’t graced herself with in a while. ❛ i never tried to get over you, because i didn’t want to. ❜ and there it is. the truth.

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