are Stiles
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Summary
The Stilinski household looked bare, empty. Even from the outside.
The garden overgrown and the windows black. Stiles let out a shaky breath as he stared at the house he grew up in.
His mothers laughter filled his ears and his dad’s witty sense of humor too as memories flooded his brain.
He pictured his dad, lying in the cold coffin. His skin as pale as snow. The sheriffs uniform covering the wounds, covering the truth of what happened.
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he brought his jeep to life, the engine roaring as it rolled gently out the drive way.
He had to go, he just had to.
He had to leave Beacon Hills.