red riding hood | void stiles [au]

four ; present

CHAPTER FOUR: DESTRUCTIVE COMBINATIONS

STILES STILINSKI WAS without a doubt tired. Summer had just started, and for once it wasn't the unbelievable piles of homework or a new threat that had made dark circles return under his eyes. Actually, he didn't even know why he was driving around Beacon Hills so late at night with his old, light blue Jeep that was barely still running, since he could be home, in bed, sleeping away everything that was keeping him awake.

Like always, the obsessive teenager's mind was spinning, the feeling that something wasn't right taking up practically every thought, though the problem was he got that frequently. If living in this supernaturally tethered town has taught him anything, it was that sometimes things weren't simply over, and as much as Stiles likes to ignore tiny little problems until they go away, enemies have the tendency to cause much bigger complications. And it was up to him, him and Scott and every one of his other friends to fix it, because who else would?

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, amber-colored irises gleaming every time a streetlight hit them at the right angle, the blue flannel with his white T-shirt underneath not making him neither too cold or too hot on this nice, summer night. The window on the passenger side was still cracked though from yesterday when Scott was riding along with him and it refused to roll back up after he dropped the werewolf off at home, making the most noticeable noise as air shot through the opening. Perhaps he figured if he drove around until he felt more at ease with everything, it would be only a matter of time before the fair-skinned boy would return home peacefully with the reassurance that right now trouble wasn't looking for him or his friends. Then again, once he was set on something, it was hard to convince him otherwise.

The brakes were put into use the minute his foot slammed on them and he caught sight at just the right second of someone running right in front of him, a breath of relief exiting him once the vehicle stopped in front of the stranger that he wondered was crazy. Perhaps it was his exhaustion and crankiness that led him to getting out of the car, stepping into the empty street, and making his way to the front of his Jeep so the boy could get answers as to why he almost accidentally ran someone over. Stiles didn't take his keys out of the car either, leading to the headlights shining on both of them once he reached what he realized was a girl.

"What the hell? Is a hobby of yours to give 17-year-old boys a heart attack?" He questioned, irritated, but he silently decided not to use that tone anymore once he saw the very guilty expression on her young face.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. You were the first car I've seen drive down here this late at night and I've been waiting for someone to possibly help me get my car started," Prudence told him convincingly, silently telling herself that this body would do well again for her former lover, her blue eyes seeming as lost as ever.