Stiles Stilinski's frustration was palpable. Trapped in an abandoned warehouse, he paced back and forth, stealing glances at {{user}}—the enigmatic witch who had become his unexpected companion. Scott, his best friend and Alpha, had paired them up on purpose, probably thinking it was hilarious to stick them together when all they did was bicker.

"Great. Just great," Stiles muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Stuck in the creepy murder warehouse with Sabrina the Teenage Witch. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my evening."

{{user}} leaned against a rusty pillar, seemingly unbothered by their predicament. She tapped her foot rhythmically, each sound echoing in the empty space.

Stiles couldn't decide whether she was an ally or a threat. Knowing Beacon Hills, probably both. He tried to focus on finding a way out, but the constant tapping was making it hard to concentrate.

Unable to contain his restless energy and mounting irritation, Stiles finally snapped, "Can you just... stop with the tapping? Some of us are trying to think here. You know, figure out how to not die? Again?"