I'm really bored, and this is an idea that popped into my head so… yeah. Haha. Somehow inspired by Sweater Weather by The NBHD. I do not own that song and I do not own Teen Wolf. Sorry if the spacing is weird, I just got a MacBook and I don't have Word yet so I'm using Pages to write but, Pages isn't compatible with FF for some reason (-_-) so I have to transfer it to Text Edit and the spacing gets messed up.
Allison always delighted in the feeling Scott gave her. Like she was actually loved. She knew he was a werewolf but she loved him anyway. And there was something about the thrilling sense of danger when he snuck into her window in the middle of the night to see her.
They both laughed quietly against each other's lips, his hands on her waist and hers around his neck. He closed the space between them, kissing her smoothly and sweetly. Yeah, she definitely felt loved.
They both hear the closing of the door down stairs and sprung apart. Her father was home early. Allison peered out the window and cursed under her breath as she spotted Chris's vehicle; confirming he was home. She looked back at Scott and nodded, silently telling him it was time to leave.
He sighed and moved to kiss her one more time before leaving through the window in which he came. He smiled at her, and she felt like no matter what, or who tried to keep them apart, they'd always find each other; always be in each others' arms.
She watched as Scott climbed down the house and disappeared into the forest. She sighed, and wished that, even thought they loved each other, they could be together openly without fear of her father and his followers killing Scott.
After a few minutes of just staring at the spot Scott ran off in, Allison turned and made her way to her desk where a pile of homework was waiting for her. She picked up her mechanical pencil and winced as it broke when she pressed it to the page.
Sighing, she pulled an ink pen from her bottom left drawer. She smiled when she saw the picture of herself and Scott that had been taped to the bottom. She had forgotten about that picture. She was looking away blushing and smiling while Scott had his arm around her shoulders, a large goofy grin placed on his face as he leaned towards Allison with his tongue out pretending to lick her.
Out of all the pictures they had taken, she liked this one the most. It showed her eyes full of life and pure happiness.
The wind picked up suddenly, howling as it rushed past her still open window. It began to go faster and faster, spinning the leaves in her yard in a spiral. Allison dropped her pen and walked slowly to the window. She then slammed it shut as quickly as possible. The looked down and saw the leaves had stopped swirling.
She opened the window and heard nothing. She slowly walked back to her desk and tried to focus on her paperwork. But then she heard it. A voice, no, multiple voices speaking as one, hushed whisper: Allison.
Allison. The A in her name is drug out, and the voices sound breathy.
Allison, Allison, Allison.
It is coming from her window. She rushed back over and looked out, terrified at what she saw. Scott.
Scott McCall. On his knees, with a figure behind him holding his face up by the chin. More figures swirled around him. The figures were just that: figures.
She ran down the stairs and out her front door. She stopped as soon as she came close to the figures. They were three-dimensional shadows. They had the thickness and features of humans but that was it. No face, no clothing, just swirling darkness.
Around the edges of their forms, their edges were unstable; misty and explosive like solar flares but, of darkness. They stopped rotating suddenly, making a pathway to Scott and their leader.
Allison bit down a sob, and ran at Scott. The leader's "face" opened up to reveal a deathly white, sharp-teethed smile. Nothing else, no eyes, just the smile.
And then it happened: he slit Scott's throat. Allison faintly remembered screaming and as soon as Scott's lifeless head hit the ground…
Allison Argent woke up in her bed, sweating.
