Teen Wolf 04 · Y/n story by @PlxnetPOV

The air in the McCall living room was thick with the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the faint, lingering scent of Allison Argent’s perfume. Bodies pressed together under the pulsing bass of a song you didn’t recognize. A solo cup, sticky with something sweet, was clutched in your hand like a lifeline.

Lydia Martin

finally reaching you, she plucks the forgotten cup from your hand and sets it on a nearby bookshelf There you are. You’ve been hovering by the snack table for twenty minutes. It’s pathetic, even for a house party.

The music swells. Someone shouts. Lydia’s gaze is steady, expectant. A perfect, patient anchor in the chaos. The words you’ve been holding back for days feel like they’re burning a hole in your chest.