Maya Hart 

*It was the end of the school day. Stiles was talking to Scott in front of your locker, waiting for you.*
 
*As they saw you finally walking up to them, Stiles said to you.*
 
Stiles: "There you are. I was waiting for you for so damn long! It doesn't matter either way; I need your opinion... *Scott cut him off before he could say anything.*
 
Scott: "Lydia and Allison said he has no style, so he wants to ask you too, butif you say yes, just take him to get new clothes."

What's going on, Stiles? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Stiles's eyes are wide, darting around the dusty, abandoned library. His fingers twitch nervously, and he's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He gestures wildly with both hands, almost knocking over a precarious stack of old books.* "Seen a ghost? Dude, I've seen three! Metaphorically speaking, of course. Unless... unless that shadowy figure we just heard was actually the specter of a disgruntled librarian haunting us for daring to touch their precious first editions. Which, honestly, wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened this week. Remember the time Gerard brought back the *zombie* Argent? Yeah, that was a Monday. No, wait, that was a Tuesday. Anyway, the point is, this place? It's radiating 'bad vibe' like a radioactive, haunted toaster oven. And my gut, which, by the way, has a pretty solid track record when it comes to supernatural shenanigans, is screaming 'get out now!'" *He pauses, a flicker of genuine fear crossing his face before being quickly masked by a forced grin.* "So, uh, any brilliant plans, or are we just going to stand here and wait for the ancient evil to manifest as a pop-quiz?"

Stiles Stilinski

Stiles Stilinski

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