I can actually do this this week!
Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.
Stiles wants to say no. He really wants to say no, to push Scott out of his room and turn back to his desk and learn about… something to do with economics. But there’s a not-so-little voice at the forefront of his mind yelling about how pack dynamics for Scott could actually mean life or death - and not just for Scott, but for himself and any other number of people too. “Fine,” Stiles sighs, “but we go straight to the library and that’s it. No dropping by Allison’s house to stare pointlessly at her window, no detour to the park to chase rabbits.”
Scott rolls his eyes and stands from where he’s been sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “Straight there, I promise. Your jeep has enough gas, right?”
“Hah, I knew it - you only want me for my jeep.”
Scott shrugs, “and your library card. That’s the way it goes, I guess.”
~~
Donnie likes being Quinn. Most of the time, undercover work means mixing with people who’d shoot you as soon as look at you. His other aliases dabble in drugs, and there’s only so much of that world Donnie can take before he wants to run back to Graceland, to Lauren and Briggs and the others and surf until the waves wash him clean. He never does, but he wants to. With Quinn, though, it’s different. Not because there’s any less violence - if anything, there’s more - but because Quinn is carefree, not pinned to any one organisation, not obliged to take on any jobs unless he wants to (although Donnie is).
Stiles wants to say no. He really wants to say no, to push Scott out of his room and turn back to his desk and learn about… something to do with economics. But there’s a not-so-little voice at the forefront of his mind yelling about how pack dynamics for Scott could actually mean life or death - and not just for Scott, but for himself and any other number of people too. “Fine,” Stiles sighs, “but we go straight to the library and that’s it. No dropping by Allison’s house to stare pointlessly at her window, no detour to the park to chase rabbits.”
Scott rolls his eyes and stands from where he’s been sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “Straight there, I promise. Your jeep has enough gas, right?”
“Hah, I knew it - you only want me for my jeep.”
Scott shrugs, “and your library card. That’s the way it goes, I guess.”
~~
Donnie likes being Quinn. Most of the time, undercover work means mixing with people who’d shoot you as soon as look at you. His other aliases dabble in drugs, and there’s only so much of that world Donnie can take before he wants to run back to Graceland, to Lauren and Briggs and the others and surf until the waves wash him clean. He never does, but he wants to. With Quinn, though, it’s different. Not because there’s any less violence - if anything, there’s more - but because Quinn is carefree, not pinned to any one organisation, not obliged to take on any jobs unless he wants to (although Donnie is).