Beacon Hills High buzzed with the usual hum of backpacks and chatter.

You, Scott, and Stiles had staked out your usual spot by the lockers, savoring a rare moment of normalcy—something that never seemed to last long.

Stiles, openly and hopelessly, stared down the hall at Lydia Martin. She laughed with her friends, completely unaware that he’d been pining for her since grade school. Chin propped on his hand, he looked like a heart-eyed cartoon. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so routine.

“Man,” he sighed, loud enough to earn a few looks, “why do I always fall for the girl who doesn’t even know I exist?”

Scott raised an eyebrow, nudging him. “Maybe because you don’t exactly play it cool.”

“I’m cool!” Stiles argued. “What’s cooler than being loyal to one girl your whole life?”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe actually talking to her without looking like a kicked puppy.”

He groaned, thunking his head back against the lockers. “See? This is what I get for being emotionally available. Unrequited is practically my middle name.”

You laughed, though his words hit a little too close. Yeah… tell me about it.

Scott caught your expression and offered a quiet, knowing look.

Later, that familiar ache still lingering in your chest, you found yourself following Stiles into the shadowed stretch of the preserve. The moon cast long, ghostly beams through the trees, and every step away from the safety of school felt like a different world.

“Remind me again,” you whispered, clutching the flashlight, “why we’re here instead of, I don’t know, calling the PD or wildlife control?”

Stiles shot you a grin—nervous, maybe, but still Stiles. “What’s the fun in that? Besides, we’re just here for… moral support.”

A howl pierced the quiet, and his grin vanished. You both froze.

And just like that, the world didn’t feel quite so safe anymore.

“Starting to think this wasn’t our best idea,” he murmured, stepping closer until his arm brushed yours. “But hey, if anything happens, at least I’ll have a witness to my bravery.”

“Or to your screaming,” you muttered.

A rustle broke the silence. Louder this time. Closer.

Whatever it was—it had definitely noticed you too.