Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf, but I would love me some Tyler Posey, Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O'Brien. Oh yes, I would. And, I'm British, so if some of the jargon is different, I am sorry, but I have never been to America and know nothing of the speech. Also, I know next to nothing about the traditions in Japan or Ireland, but I'm going to guess. Please, don't take offence. Thank you, enjoy my story, and have a great day.

Lily POV

After Stiles excused himself, I was left alone with my thoughts, or at least I was alone, until the jackass from earlier decided to take up the seat opposite me; the one that Stiles was just sitting in. He had a cocky, arrogant smile on his face, and there was this predatory look in his eyes. It was very disconcerting, especially considering I could see the slight elongation of his canines, and his irises were twitching, switching very quickly from a bright green to a light blue. If I weren't so close, and paid so much attention to things I really shouldn't be paying attention to, I wouldn't have even noticed.

"Hey… What's your name, gorgeous?"

I raised on perfectly shaped eyebrow, put my elbows on the table, and laid my chin in knuckles, never once breaking eye contact with him.

"Jackson, right? You got a last name?"

My tone was steady, and completely unwavering. I stared at him, and he watched me, not moving, or blinking, and it seemed like neither of us were breathing. I felt like something was going to happen, all the noise behind me bled out, and it was just me and him.

"Whittemore. Jackson Whittemore, and yourself?"

He pulled his right hand out from under the table, and laid it out, ready for me to shake. I looked at it, warily, and he laughed, saying, "It's just a hand. It's not gonna bite."

I chuckled, at this, and grabbed his hand, in a soft, but firm grip, and shook it gently, with a slight nod of my head, and said lightly, "Williams, Lilac Williams. Nice to meet you."

After about 20 minutes of talking with Jackson, my brain caught up with my body and I realised Stiles hadn't come back yet. I wondered silently if he was okay, and Jackson seemed to notice that I was miles away. He tapped my palm with his index finger and my eyes snapped towards his, and he was frowning a little.

"I'm sorry, I was somewhere else completely. I was just wondering whe-"

"Stilinski? What's up with him anyway? Where did you two meet?"

He seemed rather interested, but with guys you could never know.

"I met him a few days ago and-"

"DAYS AGO? And you're that close? I mean damn, I didn't know Stilinski was that smooth."

I laughed at him, completely over-looking the fact that he did, intentionally or not, insult me and my integrity. I explained to him that Stiles and my relationship was completely platonic, with absolutely no romantic feelings, whatsoever. I even went so far as to tell him that I saw Stiles as a little brother, or something of that stature. He seemed incredibly sceptical, but nodded, nonetheless. After the sky started to get darker, and the mall became increasable empty, Jackson offered to drive me home, especially considering Stiles did not come back after taking the call. To say I was pissed off was an understatement.

We were sitting, rather comfortably, in Jackson's silver Aston Martin DB9, watching the trees skim by and the only sound being the radio playing smooth jazz music. The seats were heated and the windows were wound up, meaning the inside of the car was rather warm. I decided to keep my grey, zip-up jacket off, fiddling with it in my hands, and I was wearing a pair of pastel green jeans and a cream button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, showing my two wrist tattoos clearly, and a pair of light brown Converse.

Out of my peripherals, I could see Jackson opening his mouth, then deciding against saying whatever it was he wanted to say, and closing it again. This happened about 4 or 5 times before I couldn't take it.

I said, rather sharply, and with a sigh, "Is there something you want to say, Jackson? Because you really, really are going to drive me crazy if you keep doing that."

I turned to look at him, and saw the anguished look in his eyes, and couldn't help being floored by it. He was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other was pulling at his hair, and he was switching between looking at me, and the road. He seemed very disturbed by something, and if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, it was hurting him physically to keep it inside. Out of nowhere, Jackson suddenly swerves the car, parking it directly in front of a small, yet open passageway, leading into the forest.

I snapped my head towards him, and he was watching me, as if he was measuring my reaction. Obviously, I responded in the way any person would and that was by demanding an explanation.

"What the fuck, Jackson? I don't live anywhere near here, what was with the fucking James Bond 180 turn? Seriously, shit like that can give a bitch a heart attack!"

He was still watching me, but now his gaze was more amused over anything else, and he had a slight smile tugging at his lips, the fucking jackass.

"I was just wondering, would you want to come to my lacrosse game later today?"

I punched his shoulder, and started smiling, more out of nerves than anything, and I told him I would. I wanted to see what this lacrosse was all about, because Stiles kept going on about it the other day.

"Apparently, your teams shit, though?"

Jackson's smile faded, but his eyes still held their amusement, so I knew he wasn't angry at me, and he poked me in my upper arm, causing a twinge op pain, and he told me to shut up.

"We're not shit, we're just… biding our time."

I laughed out loud at his indignation and just ordered him to carry on driving, but warned if he ever pulled a stunt like that again, I would really hurt him and his over-sized ego. Once again, he just told me to shut up, and went back to driving me home.

I directed him, and after a short, but the most calm and smooth journey I had ever had, he parked the car right at the bottom of my driveway and looked up at my house. It was homely, I liked it, simply because it held all those memories and those good times inside each floorboard and each tile. It was a two storey, industrial styled house, complete with garage and a rather large and wide front garden.

The house itself was raised slightly on foundations, keeping it safe from flooding and such, and to reach the front door, there were three wooden steps. The front door was white, and there was a picket fence to match it, bordering the entire property. There were 8 windows at the face of the property, but a total of 14 all together. The two on the top right hand side were the top floors bathroom, and the other was my parents bedroom. My old bedrooms window was located at the back of the property, as did the kitchen and bottom floor bathroom.

The entire house was kept in pristine condition when my mother was alive. When she wasn't taking care of my father and I, she was generally cleaning the house, which struck me as quite odd, considering she was one of the most 'equal-rights, blah, feminism blah'-type of woman you could have ever met.

"You live here with your parents?"

I was snapped out of my trance, and turned my attentions to Jackson. When it became clear that I hadn't heard what he had said, he repeated, and I started to smile, sadly, to myself.

"No. I live alone."

I could see the questioning glace he sent my way, and I could see the question in his eyes. I sighed before answering, and tried to keep my tone calm, but the tremors were obvious, especially to Jackson.

"My… My parents are dead."

As I said this, I pushed open the car doors and walked outside, taking out my keys, and getting ready to open up my front door. As I reached my door, heard Jackson call out, "They'd be proud of you."

And he drove away, speeding off, leaving nothing behind him but a trail of dust. As I closed the door behind me, I could see the outline of someone standing in the far corner of the living room, and because the lights were still off, I couldn't see who it was. Well that was until they spoke, and as they did, I felt my blood run cold, and my heart stopped beating, if only for a second.

"Hello, Lilac. How have you been lately?"

Done :O

Who do you think it was, guys? Leave your thoughts, and I hope you have a great day.

I love yo faces, and I'll see you tomorrow… Yeah, I watch too much PhillyD, sue me.