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    Summary

    Stiles has blood in his mouth. He can taste it, ichor and salt. Something that isn’t him, but “it has to be, right, Der? It’s me. It’s me rejecting the bite. Oh, god. Oh god. Oh my god, I’m not ready for this not now not – “

    He chokes on his words, on the fluid that sprays all over his chest, his shirt. Coughing, cough, coughing. He grimaces and wipes the offending sludge on his forearm. Black blood. Black. Blood. He should have known better! He tries to say as much but nobody’s paying any attention. Which, rude, really. He’s leaking! Like that old faucet his dad took three years to fix after his mom –

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    1,505
    Chapters:
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    Kudos:
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