Scarlett had been sitting still, next to the window in her living room throughout all the day. Her nervousness never gone since the night before.
She had decided to not go to school, she was too overwhelmed and she could scarcely focus. She didn't want to make a mess. She had no mind to lie.
Peter had never called her, and she honestly didn't care. She wanted to be alone.
I should have never come back, Scarlett thought. She should have just hunted Kate Argent down, that would have been the best revenge. Torture her, make her suffer, and at the end killing her. Slow and painfully, like her family died.
No, they deserve this, she thought getting up. They all deserve to be hunt down and die.
Her hands moved fast to cover her face, she didn't want to cry. She didn't. And yet she had shread many tears of blood since the night before.
This is stupid, she screamed in her head. Was her who was feeling all of that? Was it Stiles' fault?
She wished it was. But she knew it wasn't.
It was all her, just her. And she was starting to despise herself. She was starting to realize the difference. She had felt his anxiety that day, Stiles' nervousness and worry. And at some point something like embarassment.
Those were feelings she didn't have a reason to feel; those were his. But what was tormenting her now, that was all hers. And she hated it.
What was all of that? Why was she behaving like that? Why couldn't she kill that man the night before? Why was she feeling so strange about all of that situation? Why did she almost wished to stop?
"Get a grip, Scarlett, fuck!" She cursed as she paced the room. She was a vampire, a Hale, that was what she was. She wanted revange, she wanted all the Argent to be gone forever, that was what she was. She had hunted and killed, what was all of that?
Peter had been so proud of her, he had told her so. But she knew he wasn't. Not after the night before.
But did she care? She knew she should. But did she really?
"God, I feel like I'm going crazy..."
Then suddenly there was a knock on her door that made her turn with a frown on her face. It was too early to be Peter, he never came to her with the light. No now that Derek was around.
Was it Derek? But why? What did he want?
"Scarlett, open up!" She closed her eyes when she heard that voice. She didn't move. There was a few more bangs, "I know you're in there. Your motorbike is parcked out here."
Scarlett pushed her hair back, and with a little groan she made the few steps that were between her and the door. He kept knocking, as stubborn as he was. She let out a breath and she opened.
"Finally!" The boy in front of her said with exasperation. Her eyes lingered for a moment longer on his neck, the plush skin, and his scent...
God, was she going crazy?!
"Stiles, what are you doing here?" She asked without hiding her irritation, and that made him frown.
"You've got attitude?" He argued in disbelief, "You went total MIA, no answering my texts or calls. With all that had been going on and you've got attitude with me?"
She crossed her arms over her chest as she observed him with a glare, "Maybe I couldn't," then she shook her head. "I don't have to justify myself with you."
His brown eyes widened, "Have you all been going crazy today?" he exclaimed entering the house. Lucky humans who didn't need invetation. "Scott went off somewhere, you are all angry at me with no reason, the Alpha went ballistic, Eve didn't want to help, Jackson was useless, I went to Lydia--"
She rose her eyebrows, "Oh you went to Lydia," she said with a glare, "That explains why you were all embarassed and 'happy'."
"Seriously?" he asked with a frown, "That's all you care about. What about the other hundred thousands things that have been going on?!" his exasperation only made her even more nervous. So she took a deep breath to try and calm herself, and her fangs to come out.
"As you can see I'm a little jumpy today," she tried to keep her tone from being to agressive.
"Jumpy?" He said in frustration, before his expression change into confusion. And she could feel it too.
"Scarlett, what's going on?" Stiles asked, his tone much more delicate now. He was starting to worry and that made her close her eyes.
There was too much going on.
"This... thing between me and you is fucking with my head," she found herself saying, it blurt out, but she felt surprisingly lighter as those words came out. "I... feel... so many-- It's strange and overwhelming--"
"Oh God..." he whispered with wide eyes. She could hear his blood rushing in his veins. "You did it too, that's why you're so strange with me!" His cheeks had tinted with a delicious shade of red and as much as she found him incredibly appealing like that, on her face appeared a confused frown.
"Stiles--"
"It was just a dream," he said almost trying to reassure her, he made some steps her way. "I read that it was possible, but I didn't think you'd freak out so much at the thought of having sex with me." Scarlett's eyes widened at those words.
"What?" she asked as he passed a nervous hand over his face.
"You don't have to try and be kind," he said shaking his head, "I'm sorry it made you unconfortable, it is not something that we could really control. But I don't want for you to be strange--" Scarlett made a step closer covering his mouth with her hand. Her eyes fixed on his.
"You dreamt... of having sex with me?" At her confusion his eyes grew larger, and he took her wrist with his fingers to free himself, but he didn't step back.
"Oh God..." he muttered, "You didn't?"
"But you did..." she said back. His heart was pumping like crazy, and his flesh was getting redder by the minute.
"God, this is a nightmare," he said turning, starting to pace the living room. Her eyes never left his frame as he did so. "God, you didn't know!" He exclaimed.
"Clearly," she said with a nod.
"And now you do," he let out a nervous laughter, "God, this is so... embarassig! Strange! I must be looking so creepy right now! Hi, I dream of having sex with you!" He was feeling all he was saying, and for some reason as he got nervous she only found him cuter.
For the first time that day she found the tension around her lips to be gone, and they turned up in a genuine smile. She made the few steps that separated her from him Stiles and with she reached out to take him by the hand.
"Hey," her voice came out softly as she made him turn to her, "I'm not freaked out. Not at all." His eyes widened again.
"Really?" at his question, she found herself nodding.
"Really," she repeated, like she wanted to make sure he had understood it.
She was still holding his hand.
She hadn't even realized she had reached for it — it had just happened, like her body had moved before her mind could stop it. His skin was warm. Too warm. Grounding in a way she wasn't used to.
Stiles had stopped talking.
He was looking at her now, really looking at her, his breath shallow, his pulse loud enough that she could feel it under her fingers. His confusion had quieted, replaced by something softer.
Scarlett took a step closer.
For a moment, everything else fell away — Peter, the Argents, the blood, the rage. There was only him. The way his lips parted slightly.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
God.
Her body leaned in before she could stop it. Just an inch more. Just—
No.
The realization hit her like cold water.
What am I doing?
Her hand tightened once around his fingers — then she let go.
She stepped back abruptly, breaking the fragile space between them. The air felt heavier immediately, like something important had almost happened and now hovered unfinished between them.
"I'm sorry for today," Scarlett said, her voice lower, steadier than she felt. "I really am."
Stiles blinked, still processing, his cheeks flushed, his heart still racing. "I— it's okay," he said quickly, too quickly. "I mean— yeah. It's fine."
She nodded once, crossing her arms as if to hold herself together.
Then she looked at him again, searching his face. He had noticed what she was doing? Was she realizing what she was doing?!
"You... you still need my help?" she asked.
His eyes widened once again, his breath slightly laboured, but he managed to nod after a moment, "Of course."
Her lips turned up into a little smile, "Alright," she said.
Stiles still didn't seem sure about what he wanted to say, and she shared that feeling. What had she been thinking?!
"Do you..." he stopped to clear his voice, "Do you want to come to my house. There's something that I need to show you." She was forcing herself to pretend that what had almost happened didn't actually happen, and she managed to nod.
"I'll..." she said, "I'll follow you with my motorbike, so you don't have to bring me home later."
Stiles nodded in silence.
No smile. No joke. Just a small, almost imperceptible movement of his head, like he was afraid that if he spoke, something would spill out again. He turned and started toward his jeep without looking back.
Scarlett watched him for a second longer than necessary.
Then she turned away to get her keys and helmet.
The ride was too fast.
Or maybe too slow.
The engine of her motorbike vibrated beneath her, familiar, grounding — and yet it wasn't enough. The road blurred under the wheels, streetlights passing like brief flashes of consciousness, but her mind refused to quiet down.
She had almost kissed him.
The thought hit her again, sharp and unwanted.
And she knew why. Even if she was trying to blame on the bond and on her plans, but she knew.
She almost kissed him because she wanted to.
I must be going crazy, she thought as she followed the blue jeep in front of her.
Her chest felt tigh. Regret tangled with relief, relief tangled with disappointment. She hated herself for all of it.
The house came into view too soon.
She cut the engine and sat still for a moment, helmet still on, breathing slowly. Counting. Trying to remember who she was supposed to be.
Vampire.
Hunter of hunters.
Lier.
She took the helmet off and followed him inside.
Scarlett had already been in Stiles' house, but she had never been in his bedroom. It was quite clean and well kept for someone as quirky as Stiles. The walls were blue, with some posters hanging on them. It almost felt relaxing — like the scent she was breathing in.
He's not my anchor, she scolded herself as her eyes moved to observe him.
Stiles was pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as he waited for Scott to pick up the phone.
"Hey, it's me. Again!" he started talking, clearly reaching Scott's voicemail once more. She was seriously starting to doubt that the puppy knew what phones were actually used for. "Look, I found something and I don't know what to do, okay?"
Scarlett frowned slightly as she watched him walk back and forth. He had mentioned something he needed to show her, but before, she hadn't been focused enough to think about it. What had he found?
It couldn't involve her — otherwise he would have acted completely differently with her. She was sure of that.
"So, if you could turn your phone on right now, that'd be great. Or else, I'll kill you." Scarlett could feel how stressed he was as he spoke. His nervousness was building, and he was probably getting angry too. She felt for him.
You should not care, she screamed at herself once again.
"Do you understand me?" he added. "I'm going to kill you. And I'm too upset with you to come up with a witty description of how exactly I'm going to kill you, but I'm just gonna do it, alright? I'm gonna—" He stopped, letting out a groan of frustration, then shouted at the phone again. "Goodbye!"
Scarlett watched him throw the phone onto the bed. He was angry, frustrated, nervous. Was it possible that Peter had attacked Scott? Was that why he wasn't answering?
You shouldn't even care, she told herself. Scott was a tool for their plan. And so was Stiles…
Her gaze followed him as he sat down on the chair at his desk, his head resting on his crossed arms. He was truly frustrated.
"God…" he muttered.
After taking a deep breath, Scarlett made her way toward him. What should she do? Should she touch him? She would have done it before. Or maybe she wanted to do it now…?
It was all so confusing. She didn't even know her own manipulations anymore. But she couldn't just stay back and say nothing.
"Stiles," she called gently, just before placing a hand on his shoulder. She thought he would jump at her touch, but instead she felt him relax. That surprised her — and for some reason, it made her want to keep her hand there. "Listen, it's useless to keep yelling at your phone now." He let out a quiet sigh, and she tightened her grip on him just a little. "You said there was something you needed to show me." He turned to look at her for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright," she whispered. "Show me, then."
He was so frustrated. She had already felt him being nervous before, but this kind of frustration almost made her feel sad for him.
No… he must be sad. Why should I be sad?
She was doing everything she could to hide whatever thoughts were crowding her mind that day. But it was so difficult — nothing was clear anymore. And yet she needed clarity. She needed to understand… she needed not to make mistakes… she needed—
A knock made them both turn. Scarlett let out a gasp, while Stiles jumped in true Stiles fashion. When they turned, they both saw Mr. Stilinski standing in the doorway.
"I didn't know we had guests," the man said, glancing at her.
"Yeah! Yeah…" Stiles said. "I forgot to mention, we were about to… um—"
"Study," Scarlett said with a small nod, feeling Stiles turn toward her. "I really need help with math."
The Sheriff nodded, his expression kind — just like the first time she had met him at the game. "Scarlett, right?" She nodded, and his lips curved into a polite smile. "I hope he can help you." Then he turned to his son. "As I hope I'll hear good news at this parent-teacher thing tonight."
Stiles hesitated for a moment, and his expression drew a small smile from Scarlett's lips. "Depends on how you define 'good news.'" His eyes widened as he watched his father wait for an answer.
"I define it as straight A's with no behavior issues." Scarlett watched Stiles cross his arms at his father's words.
"You might want to rethink that definition," the boy said honestly, waiting for his father's reaction with his usual exaggerated expressions. For some reason, her fangs fought to come out, and she quickly looked away.
I'm going crazy, she told herself.
"Enough said," the Sheriff replied, a little defeated. Then he added, "Will your parents be there, Scarlett?"
She turned, struggling to keep her expression under control — something Stiles had more trouble doing, as he was staring at her with wide eyes.
"Actually," she began, flashing her white smile, "they won't make it. My parents are out of the city for work."
Mr. Stilinski nodded. "Yeah, Stiles told me they travel quite a lot." Scarlett simply smiled at his words. "Well, if you need anything…"
"Thanks, Mr. Stilinski," Scarlett said, a little surprised by his kindness.
He gave her one last polite smile, then turned to his son with a more defeated one. "Study," he told him — and she felt Stiles' blood rush through his veins, which made her look at him again. Why was there so little he did that made her want to bite him?
"And behave," the Sheriff added, as if it were a warning. "I'll see you later." Then he turned and disappeared around the corner.
Scarlett and Stiles turned at the same time, their eyes meeting. The situation was quite tense after what had happened in her house. That was strange. She was used to feeling much calmer around him. But his tension was back, and even his expression hardened just before he turned toward the desk.
"Here," he said, grabbing another phone from the desk. She frowned at that — she had already seen that phone.
"Is that Lydia's?" she asked, her eyes widening. "Did you take her phone?"
"Alright," he said a little defensively, "let's not focus on that, but on the video in there." Scarlett was honestly confused by that, but before she could answer, Stiles stood up and showed her the phone.
There was a indeed a video on the screen. It wasn't very clear, the camera shaking a lot, but then suddenly there was the loud sound of glass breaking — and a roar. She would have recognized it anywhere. That was Peter, and in fact she wasn't surprised when Stiles stopped the video as soon as the Alpha's face appeared on the screen.
"Oh shit…" she muttered.
"Yeah…" Stiles said. "Someone sent her this, and I found it."
The video showed Peter at the store — it was from the night before. It looked like the moment he escaped from there. But if there was that video…
"It's the only one she got?" Her question made Stiles turn to her with a slight frown.
"Isn't one enough?" he asked, confused.
Shit, she thought, trying to keep her expression as calm as possible. That one had been filmed after she had left, and he was at the entrance — not the one she had used to escape. And Lydia had arrived just before Scarlett had decided to leave the scene.
She couldn't have been recorded. She was safe, for now.
"This thing is getting bigger and bigger," Stiles said, tossing Lydia's phone onto the bed. "How long before the entire city knows about creatures?"
"You worry too much," she said, following him with her gaze and stopping him by the arm. "It's nothing we creatures don't face every day."
His eyes widened as he turned to her. "This thing is attacking people, Scarlett," he exclaimed. "Random people. And he almost killed Lydia and Jackson. And we have no way of knowing who's going to be next — and nobody seems to care."
Scarlett looked down at his words and let him go. Neither he nor Scott — not even Derek — had linked the deaths to what Peter and she were doing. And it was supposed to stay that way. But why did he care so much? It wasn't something that involved him.
Humans… she thought, watching him sit back down on his chair.
Stiles was a good human — that was clear even to someone like her. Maybe especially to someone like her. And that was confusing. He wanted to protect people who had never been kind to him. People who didn't even seem to care about him. And yet here he was, so frustrated over all of it.
"What do you want to do about it?" she asked, standing a few feet away from the chair.
He let out a deep breath. "I think it's better to delete it," he said after a moment. "Pretend nothing happened… until it happens again, I guess."
What should she say? She knew Peter had no intention of killing people unrelated to their vengeance. But she wasn't supposed to know that. What should she say?
"I think it's a good idea," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We don't need more people paying attention to all of this." He let out another deep sigh as he picked up the phone.
"You don't care if it happens again?" he asked suddenly, turning to her with a frown. For a moment, she felt like she didn't know how to speak. Had she made him suspicious? Said the wrong thing? Upset him?
"I didn't mean it that way," Scarlett said, shaking her head.
"It might all seem normal to all you creatures of the night — with your superpowers," Stiles said just before deleting the video from Lydia's phone. "But this can be dangerous. I'm not worrying too much — I'm worrying like we all should."
Scarlett bit the inside of her cheek and looked down, without really knowing why.
Why? You know he's overreacting, she told herself. But when she looked back at Stiles, she felt a pang of guilt. He really was the only one focusing on this situation twenty-four seven.
"Hey, you'll figure it out," she said — and suddenly she realized it could be true. It could happen. Stiles was smart; she knew that.
But he couldn't.
What would Peter do if he realized Stiles was getting closer to the truth?
The thought filled her heart with dread… and somehow, she knew it was all hers.