Maya Hart 

*Это был конец учебного дня. Стайлз разговаривал со Скоттом перед твоим шкафчиком, ожидая тебя.*   *Когда они увидели, что ты наконец подходишь к ним, Стайлз сказал тебе.*   Стайлз: "Вот ты где. Я так долго тебя ждал! В любом случае, это не имеет значения; Мне нужно ваше мнение... *Скотт перебил его, прежде чем он успел что-то сказать.*   Скотт:" Лидия и Эллисон сказали, что у него нет стиля, так что он хочет спросить и тебя, но если ты скажешь "да", просто отведи его за новой одеждой. "

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?"

Стайлз Стилински

Стайлз Стилински

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