✒He’d been standing there for five minutes, at the bus stop. This was his home town; he was home, and yet he wasn’t sure where to go. His house? The hospital? No, no he wasn’t incredibly fond of that idea. Yeah… yeah he’d just go to the house. He’d go by the hospital later, as per recommendation; after all, he didn’t like walking with a cane either.
“Hey, soldier.” Summer greeted him casually, offhandedly; nobody who’d grown up where she had would think of ignoring a soldier, especially one who looked so fresh from deployment. “Welcome home.”
Send me a " ○ " for my character's reaction to finding yours sitting outside in the rain, upset and crying
Erica was wet and cold. The one day she’d decided to walk to school, the weather had freakishly decided to turn in the middle of the day and bucket down with rain. She reached her front yard when she saw her red haired friend sitting on the doorstep in tears. “Summer? Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She ran over to her and embraced her in a hug, pulling the girl’s head into her shoulder to try and comfort her. She hated seeing Summer sad and she would do anything to make whatever was making her cry go away.
“You’re not going to be hunted sweetie, I don’t know how to make it stop, I don’t know what to do.” Erica tightened her grip on Summer. She hated seeing her best friend so scared and stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. She needed her to calm down or who knows what would happen with her new powers.
Summer gulped in a deep breath, holding it while she struggled to get her shields up. It felt like it took forever; like building a sand castle in the tide zone. Finally the shakes began to slow, and she sobbed out her relief in Erica’s arms.
Erica continued to stroke the girl’s hair before softly pressing a kiss on her forehead. “It’s ok, Summer, you’re going to be fine. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” Erica was fiercely protective when it came to the people she loved and it anyone came near Summer, Erica would rip their throats out.
“I’m afraid I might hurt /you,” Summer admitted. “I don’t even know how I did it; what if it happens every time I get upset the way the convulsions do now? I just want to be /normal/!”
Stiles was slammed against the wall, the fiery red headed girl he didn’t even know the name of smashing her lips to his. How had he ended up here? He didn’t know. He remembered being angry that Lydia had dissed him (once again) and walking into a bar, talking to a cute girl, they had danced after a few drinks…
And now he was up against a wall, their bodies pressed together, lips molding into each others and somehow, he loved it. Because he wasn’t worrying, or even caring frankly, about the other red head who had consumed him. Right now, at least, he probably wouldn’t know who she was if she walked up to him.
A blush the color of strawberries brightened Stiles’ cheeks. He nodded obediently, grabbing his shirt off of the ground, keeping his eyes locked to the floor as he awkwardly stepped past the bouncer. He silently asked himself how long the guy had been standing there.
He looked over his shoulder once he was past the buffed up man, looking for the red haired girl behind him. He saw her, the sides of his lips turning up into a half-hearted smile.
Summer scrambled out of the booth hastily, face burning. Trying to reorient herself in the crush of the club, her gaze crossed Stiles’, and embarrassment cramped in her middle. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, then dragged up her courage and stepped closer to say it in his ear. “I’m /so/ sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He chuckled, although he felt suddenly very awkward. They had literally just made out, pretty hardcore if you asked him, and were literally kicked out of their booth and forced to fight the inevitable tension. Or maybe it was just Stiles.
“I-I liked it, actually.” He wanted to slap himself across the face. Could he not stutter for once? His hand was still holding onto his shirt, and he slipped it over his head, hoping his blush wasn’t seen through the flashing lights of the club and slight darkness to the area.
She drew back, gaze sliding down, then back up to his face. “I, uh. Me too. A lot.” It looked like maybe he was blushing as he pulled his shirt back on. “Look, you want to — you want to get some coffee or something, get out of here?”
