Chapter 8: The First Date
The movie theater was a shrine to teenage rituals and overpriced popcorn. Scott and Allison were a whirlwind of nervous energy, their hands brushing against each other with a kind of electric tension that was almost painful to watch. Stiles and Adam, meanwhile, were a study in contrast, their presence a chaotic, protective buffer.
"Just go with it," Adam muttered to a visibly agitated Stiles, who was trying to shove a family-sized bag of Sour Patch Kids into his jacket pocket. "We're here for moral support. Not to be the world's most awkward third and fourth wheels."
"Moral support requires me to be morally sound!" Stiles hissed back, his cheeks flushed with the effort of folding the bag into an impossibly small square. "This bag of candy is an affront to the sanctity of the movie-going experience! And to my wallet! Five bucks for this? No way!"
A mischievous smirk pulled at Adam's lips. "You know, if you were a little more subtle, you wouldn't have to go through all this trouble. You could just...be normal."
Stiles froze, his head snapping up. "Normal? I'm not normal. I'm a human encyclopedia of all things weird, a master strategist, and a purveyor of the finest contraband confections this side of the county line. Normal is what Scott and Allison are doing. And look at them." He gestured with a crinkled bag toward the ticket counter where Scott was fumbling for his wallet, his face a mask of adorable, wolfish panic. Allison, meanwhile, was laughing softly, her eyes sparkling.
Adam's gaze drifted to the couple. They were a microcosm of teenage romance, a fragile, beautiful bubble of normalcy. And Adam, the outsider, the transmigrator, was granted a window into their world, a new function the System had silently installed.
[SYSTEM: New function unlocked. EMOTION SCAN. To activate, focus on target's emotional state within a 3-meter radius.]
He focused on Allison, a small, subtle mental command. The familiar blue-green interface flickered to life, but instead of data streams or combat stats, it showed a swirling, almost liquid readout.
[SYSTEM: Emotion Scan: Allison Argent - 80% genuine affection, 20% latent anxiety.]
The numbers were so precise, so unnervingly specific. Adam's eyes widened, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. He could see it now, the subtle flicker in her eyes, a slight tremor in her hand as she reached for her own ticket. The affection was real, a warm, hopeful light that made her smile genuine. But the anxiety was there too, a faint shadow in her aura, a dark undercurrent that spoke of unspoken worries and fears. It was the anxiety of a girl who had just moved to a new town, of a hunter-in-training who was falling for a boy she was supposed to hunt, a fear she wasn't even consciously aware of. The System's information felt less like data and more like a stolen secret, a violation of her privacy.
He turned his attention to Scott.
[SYSTEM: Emotion Scan: Scott McCall - 95% unbridled adoration, 5% low-level panic.]
The readout made Adam crack a small, genuine smile. Scott was so transparent, so full of innocent, puppy-like love. The panic was a humorous undercurrent—the panic of a boy on his first date with the girl of his dreams, a panic that made him a hundred times more endearing.
"What's so funny?" Stiles asked, finally giving up on his bag of candy and stuffing it into a larger, more forgiving backpack.
"Nothing," Adam said, still smiling. "Just… people. They're amazing."
Stiles gave him a skeptical look. "Yeah, yeah. Save the philosophical musings for your diary. We need to find seats. And I am not sitting next to you. Your 'positive energy' is starting to make me nauseous."
The date continued in a light, almost ethereal way. The movie was a blur, but the moments in between were sharply defined. Scott and Allison, their hands intertwined in the darkness of the theater. Stiles, meticulously sharing his hidden candy with Adam, creating a silent, conspiratorial truce. The mundane normalcy of it all was a sharp, poignant contrast to the chaos of the last few days. It felt like a brief, stolen moment of peace before the coming storm.
As the credits rolled and the crowd began to shuffle out, Allison's hand lingered in Scott's, a gesture so simple, yet so profound. The anxiety readout from the System flickered again, a subtle reminder of the danger that lay ahead. Adam watched them walk away, their silhouettes bathed in the soft, flickering light of the lobby. He had seen their emotions, their anxieties, their fears. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that the tranquility of this night was a temporary illusion. Their relationship, built on a foundation of lies and secrets, was destined for a spectacular, painful implosion. And Adam, the "pack observer," could only watch and wait for the inevitable. He had a new function, a new ability, but what good was it if he couldn't prevent the heartache it predicted?
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