Malia Hale Tate, they thought I was dead. They were wrong. I somehow gained the undying love for food in my human form.
est ;; jan 11 2014 Mun Mascot: Ansel Elgort
Shaking, Stiles tried to take a deep breath and looked up at Malia. His brain was still rolling terrifying thoughts at a million miles an hour, all of them pointless and unrealistic, but frightening nonetheless. She was there though, beside him, staying close and not getting ready to leave. Stiles tried to tell himself that he would be okay, that he could rely on her, but his heart was still racing in his chest and his lungs constricted, making him gasp for air.
“I—I—just stay here, Malia, please. Don’t leave. Just stay with me.”
He choked it out, still clutching at his own sides so hard that his own fingernails left crescent-shaped marks on his skin.
"Please don’t go.”
“Stiles, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. You know I won’t leave you. Just concentrate, just concentrate on me. Look at me. But you need to tell me what to do, Stiles. I need to know how I can help you. Please. Just tell me what to do.”
Malia kept her gaze firm on the male, she didn’t know what to do or how to help. But that’s all she wanted to do. She felt completely helpless,if he’d been with anyone else she was sure they’d know what to do. Why had it been her?
