Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”
“It’s like standing in a bonfire, being close to it.” Another bout of shudders shook her body from head to foot. “Do I want to know why it’s like that?” Another blink sent tears rolling down her face, and carefully she reached up to smear them away.
“Should’ve just walked away, stupid, stupid Summer,” she muttered quietly.
“A lot of terrible things. Really bad, very not good things,” he said, hating to see his friend in pain.
“Walked away from what? Beacon Hills? Cause I definitely don’t blame you for that. If you meant me… situation, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”
“I would have blamed me. Can you — try not to feel quite so hard? You’re making it worse.” Summer sniffled, smearing at more tears.