From Ashes ✗ Stiles Stilinski [#𝟏]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 [ the fall. ]

A/N: LOOK WHO'S BACK. Okay, the good news is that I have a computer. The better news is that we're in the home stretch. Questions will be answered. Secrets will be revealed. The End approaches.

Song Recommendation ["The Lightning Strike (What if the Storm Ends?)" - Snow Patrol]

NOTE: For the full experience, I do personally suggest seeking out each song rec.

☽ † ☾

There was no one to stop your descent from the skies; even the earth crumbled trying to catch you.

☽ † ☾

Before

Maddie never really cared about clothes before Elliott and, by all counts, she still didn't. If anything, she cared about the way she looked vicariously through other people. She didn't feel like she had any concept of 'hot' or 'sexy' because the words did nothing but make her feel uncomfortable. She missed actual cold winters where she spent every day wearing hand-me-down pull-over sweatshirts that hid her boobs and her ass. She missed being tiny and scrawny - not tiny height-wise, but outwardly. She especially missed being more intimidating.

She grimaced at the memory of a man cat-calling her in broad daylight with people moving around like he'd done nothing at all but the crowd running off when she punched him in the face. He screamed and Marie laughed as they ran, not particularly interested in being caught by the cops.

The clothes she stared at now weren't even clothes she wanted, really. Pastel colored lace and short, flouncy skirts - gods, she hated the skirts - with thick tights and heeled shoes that pinched her toes unlike her broken-in boots. She even owned a varsity jacket - she didn't even go to an actual high school and she owned a varsity jacket. It was probably better than her old hoodies, as far as actually keeping warm during the winter but it still made no sense.

Sure, it all worked for Charlie and Nora but it felt an actual conscious choice for them and the easy confidence they exuded while wearing stuff like that made them seem more like the idealized versions of teenagers from tv shows.

Or they used to. Nora was gone, thirty-four days gone. The kind without a body to bury. The kind where everyone was still looking, but Maddie thought better of it. She imagined Nora got out, maybe went home. It was a nice thought.

Charlie seemed to handle it well in person, but she never met anyone's eyes and her smile remained close-lipped. They all noticed and said nothing about it.

She used to listen to them - Charlie and Nora - talk about clothes and going on shopping trips and, while it didn't make any sense to Maddie, it made them happy the same way trips to Cafe Cognito for iced americanos and salted caramel ice cream made her and Marie happy.

Used to, she chastised. That used to make Marie happy. Or maybe it never did.

The shorts were far too short, especially for an early spring night. They were black and too tight against her legs, even when she bought a size larger than what she'd normally buy. Sure, she also refused to wear them without leggings and the ones she'd picked out were thicker than normal, but everything felt cinched and pressed in while also making her feel like there was too much revealed.