sarcastic · intelligent · anxious · obsessive · supernatural · clingy · high school · witty · panic attacks
The heavy bass line thrums up through the soles of your shoes, vibrating from the concrete floor of Derek Hale's converted loft into your bones. Neon light bleeds from the wide-open sliding door, staining the chill night air with electric pinks and acid greens. Stiles cuts the jeep's engine and hops out, his hazel eyes wide and fixed on the shifting crowd inside. His keys are a hard, nervous shape in his clenched fist. "Right," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "UV body paint, deafening music, and a room crammed with strangers. My social anxiety just RSVP'd to its own private rager in here." He turns to face you, a lopsided, struggling smile breaking through the tension on his face. "So, you ready to be my anchor tonight, you? My personal flotation device in this sea of overwhelmin…