Friday 3 July 2015 photo 10/15
|
Today’s lacrosse game happened to be Jersey Day, when the significant others of the team members would wear their jersey. Malia was wearing Stiles jersey, Kira would have been wearing Scotts if she wasn’t on the team, and you were wearing your boyfriend Liam’s number 9 jersey.
You fumbled with the hem of it as you argued with Liam outside the school. It wasn’t really arguing, more expressing your concern repeatedly and him trying to reassure you. “Are you sure you have it under control?" You ask for the fifth time.
“Yeah (Y/N), I’ve been practicing at controlling my shifts." He reassures.
“But that’s not good enough." You almost whine. “I practice doodling and singing all the time but that doesn’t make me Picasso or Beyonce. Playing lacrosse makes you start to wolf out and you can’t deny that. I just don’t want you to hurt anyone or more importantly, yourself."
“I’ll be fine. Scotts been teaching me control, I’ve gotten a lot better." He protests, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.
“Fine, just promise me if you even start to feel yourself turn you’ll get off the field." You beg.
“I promise. I gotta go." He leans forward and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before jogging through the doors.
You hoist your bag over your shoulder and walk towards the bleachers, thinking about the last few months at Beacon Hills. Not long after you moved here towards the middle of your freshman year you became friends with Liam and his friend Mason. After two weeks of preparing a speech and Mason shoving him towards your locker he finally managed to sputter “willyougooutwithme?" without pausing. Since then you two had started dating.
One day you noticed him being dragged into the locker room by Scott and Stiles. Naturally, being the loving yet curious person you were, you followed them to see what was going on. Liam was pinned against the wall with the cold water from the shower soaking him. His normally blue eyes were a golden yellow, he hand fangs like a dogs for teeth and claws for fingernails. That was the day you found out your boyfriend was a werewolf. It was a bit of a shock, but it didn’t change how you felt about Liam. You actually thought it was kind of cool, it was more interesting than anything that had ever happened at your old town.
It did cause you to worry about him and the others a lot. You were pretty jumpy now too, you didn’t know if the people around you were supernatural creatures of just human. That was why your heart stopped when Mason touched your shoulder.
“Nervous about the game?" He asks with a smirk as you clutch your chest dramatically.
“You’re the one who should be nervous after I get you back for almost causing my death." You pretend to threaten as you both climb the bleachers stairs.
Lydia sees you guys and waves you over to where she was sitting with Malia. “Liams jersey looks good on you." She says with a grin as you take your seat.
You blush and pretend to focus on the game which had just started. “Knock it off." You mutter under your breath. She smiles and shakes her head before turning towards the field.
The game was going well for the team. Scott, Kira, and Liam were scoring points constantly, the other team barely had the ball. You cheered every goal they scored, but you were on your feet for everyone Liam won. He would glance up at you for approval and smiled when he saw your reaction. Even Stiles scored a point and Malia froze and looked at Lydia for a sign on how to react. This didn’t happen very often, but once Malia realized what to do, she cheered louder than anyone there. Towards the end of the game Liam got knocked off his feet and laid on the ground refusing to move. Stiles distracts Coach so he doesn’t go to question Liam and Scott hurries to his side.
You stand to your feet to try and get a better look as Scott pulls him to his feet. Liam looks to the ground with his eyes closed and his hands in fists as Scott talks to him. “Whats going on?" You ask Malia, who was listening to their conversation.
“He’s turning right now." She responds as she closes her eyes to focus better.
Liam glances up at you, eyes bright gold, before glancing down again and shaking his head at whatever Scott was saying. Others were beginning to notice what was going on. “Come on Liam." You whisper, knowing that he could hear you. “I know you can control this. You can get through this. I believe in you, as cheesy as that may sound."
Liam focused on your words. Knowing that you were up there, wearing his jersey, telling him it’d be okay made him calmer. You picked him, you stayed with him, you cared about him, you believed in him, and that’s all that mattered. You pulled him back to normal, and in that moment he realized you were his anchor. He opened his eyes, back to his normal blue, and looked at you with a small smile. You let out a breath and sat down, whispering the words, “I love you." His smile grows and the game starts again.
The buzzer signaled the end of the game a little while later, Beacon Hills being the winner of course. You followed as everyone filed out onto the field. Malia tackled Stiles into a bear hug, causing him to stumble back. Lydia congratulated Scott and Kira and Mason wandered off to flirt with an attractive lacrosse player from the other team. Someone grabs your shoulder, but this time you don’t jump. The touch was warm and familiar.
You turn to congratulate Liam on the game but were cut off when his lips met yours. It took you a full second to realize what was going on, but after that you reacted by kissing him back. You pull away first, both of you out of breath. “What was that for?"
“Because I love you too." He says simply, eyes warm and inviting.
“You know what I love about their relationship. Its so passionate and carefree, so young and innocent." Stiles says with his arm around Malia.
“We’re only two years younger than you, Stiles." Liam argues, his arm draped around your waist.
“A lot can happen in two years." He says seriously. Scott nods along, trying to keep a straight face.
Liam rolls his eyes but you kiss him before he could say anything else. You blush as red as his number 9 jersey when you feel the eyes of bystanders on the two of you. But it didn’t matter, you were in his arms and had no plan on leaving anything soon.
Annons