2025-12-07 02:19:05Night crawled slowly across campus, tinting the sky in deep bruised darkness with a tinge of light as Wesley made his way down the dim path leading toward the woods. The air was cooler now, crisp enough to sting lightly against his cheeks. His hands were tucked into his hoodie pockets; his “best” attire.
Standing next to her earlier in the morning had felt too painfully inadequate. Wesley remembered to not let that be the case again this time. He walked with uneven steps, half-dreading and half-excited, his thoughts noisy and tangled. ' What does she want to do tonight? Are we going to practice being a werewolf and what it's about? Why did I even agree to this?' On his way, he rehearsed questions in his head. Questions that had been on his mind since afternoon, questions he should have asked her earlier in the mornin. About werewolves, about what he’d turned into, about the strange instincts that kept flaring inside him. She was the only person he could talk to about any of it. The only person who seemed to know what was happening to him at all. He didn’t even realize his feet had brought him to the clearing until a voice cut through the night. “You’re late.” Wesley jerked his head up, startled. And instantly, he smelled her. Her warm, musky scent that was sweet yet sharp, soft yet dangerous. The type of scent that pulled him in without permission, a scent that whispered 'ethereal' and 'untouchable' in the same breath. Wesley's chest tightened with something unfamiliar. A strange tinge of fear and attraction, all tangled into one. But he didn’t even get a second to process it when something blurred through the air toward him, slicing through the quiet with a violent whistle. A stone! Wesley flinched, startled. But his body moved before his mind did. His hand shot up in a panic, fingers closing around the rock with a sharp grasp. He froze, staring at his own hands in shock, then at her. She seemed to have an expectancy expression on her face, as if what she did or what he did was nothing special. Wesley stared at his own hand again, this time stunned. He shouldn’t have been able to catch that. Not at that speed. The fact that she had thrown it at him with such speed and without him expecting it as well. And he… had caught it... Her lips curved into a small, satisfied smirk. “Good. You’re instinctive, and have a sharp reaction. Good to know you're not a completely unaware fool after all. That lessens my burden." she said. 'This isn't her being mad that I was late?' Wesley opened his mouth, still dazed, but she spoke before he could form the words. “Hockey is a reactive game. From today on, I’ll test your instincts by throwing random things at you.” She said it casually, like this was the most normal lesson plan in the world. Wesley blinked, trying to process her logic. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. But somehow, a part of him already accepted it. He'd just caught a stone thrown at him off-guard, he really might just become someone... Better. If this was a psychological manipulation from her, it did work. In fact, Wesley's whole thought about his situation with her took a slight shift. He's now invested in committing to it. He sighed and finally mustered the courage to ask, “So… what are we doing tonight?” She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stepped into the moonlight then turned to face Wesley. His breath hitched, finally having the chance to look at her properly under the showered attention of the moonlight. She was dressed in a stunning, modern boss-girl outfit: a fitted off-white saffron blouse, high-waisted slacks that hugged her form perfectly, and sleek boots that clicked confidently against the ground. Her hair was styled effortlessly, packed behind her fair ears that were adorned with pearl-white dropping earrings. Her presence was so polished that Wesley felt his hoodie tighten around his shoulders in embarrassment. 'Why… why would someone like her talk to someone like me?' That was what first came to his mind. The girl suddenly walked towards him and past him slowly, eyeing him up and down like an artist evaluating a poorly drawn sketch. “Hmmm… first, I plan to enroll you in certain gym classes and hockey tutoring.” She said it like it was non-negotiable. “But before that, we need to fix you. Get you new clothes. Dress you up. You can’t be seen walking with me wearing that.” Her eyes flicked to his hoodie. “And your hair, it needs…” She grimaced. “Never mind. Follow me. I know just the right place.” She didn’t wait for a response. She simply turned and walked away. Wesley stood frozen. Her words stung. He didn’t know whether to feel insulted, manipulated, or grateful. Maybe all three. But then, something stirred inside him. Something small and stubborn. For a brief second, he wanted to refuse. But he sighed. Of course, he followed her. How could he not? He trailed behind her, only realizing where they were heading when he caught the glint of headlights reflecting through the trees. A car. A sleek, luxurious car parked at the end of the road between the woods. It was an expensive, polished, brand; a white Mercedes, new model car. The type you'd only see in advertisements after a football match. Something from a world Wesley didn’t belong in. And she just walked straight to it! When she reached the driver’s side and pulled out a key, Wesley stopped dead in his tracks. 'No... Way' “What are you doing? Get over here, we don't have all night!” she called, impatient. Wesley swallowed hard. 'She’s rich.' Not just rich, really loaded. Wesley forced his legs to move, each step carrying a new wave of nerves. He slid into the passenger seat stiffly, noticing how pristine everything was. Even the leather smelled expensive. When Wesley finally found his voice, the question slipped out unintentionally... quiet, breathy, but charged with genuine wonder. “Who… are you?” It wasn’t just curiosity, it was necessity. Hands on the wheel, the girl glanced sideways at him. There was a glimmer of amusement, condescension, something sharp and knowing in her eyes as she looked at him. Then she smiled. A small, pitying smile. The type that said, "you poor thing… you have no idea, do you?" “I’m Claire,” she said softly first. Then her lips curved into a confident, almost arrogant smirk. “The Claire Hackerson.” Wesley’s heart stopped. His mouth parted but no sound came out. 'Claire Hackerson?' 'Claire Hackerson!?' The daughter of Aaron Hackerson-- owner of the largest brewery chain in the region? The campus queen?! The number-one beauty in Hillsbury University? The girl everyone knew. The girl everyone wanted. The girl whose name carried weight. He was sitting next to that girl, in her car! Wesley’s entire world upended. He could only stare, breath caught in his chest, as the engine started with a chuckle from her. Wesley's life had shifted into something he could no longer predict. 
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Who?
Night crawled slowly across campus, tinting the sky in deep bruised darkness with a tinge of light as Wesley made his way down the dim path leading toward the woods. The air was cooler now, crisp enough to sting lightly against his cheeks. His hands were tucked into his hoodie pockets; his “best” attire. Standing next to her earlier in the morning had felt too painfully inadequate. Wesley remembered to not let that be the case again this time.He walked with uneven steps, half-dreading and half-excited, his thoughts noisy and tangled.' What does she want to do tonight? Are we going to practice being a werewolf and what it's about? Why did I even agree to this?'On his way, he rehearsed questions in his head. Questions that had been on his mind since afternoon, questions he should have asked her earlier in the mornin. About werewolves, about what he’d turned into, about the strange instincts that kept flaring inside him. She was the only person he could talk to about any
Determination
Wesley pushed into his dorm feeling fatigued. He expected to meet his roommate, Ralph, but only the quiet walls greeted him with a wave of silence. His roommate was gone, probably off to class or the gym or wherever normal people with normal lives went at this hour. For once, Wesley was grateful. Silence was exactly what he needed at the moment.He stepped inside and shut the door gently behind him, leaning against it for a moment. His pulse was still unsettled, beating in uneven thumps as his mind replayed his encounter with that pretty girl.‘I’m a werewolf…’She had said it casually, like someone telling him he had forgotten to tie his shoelace, and it only left him confused as to the truth of it.Wesley dragged himself to the bed and collapsed face-first into the thin mattress. He stayed that way for a while, breathing into the fabric, letting the exhaustion sink into him. He had classes to attend, he probably should have gone to at least take some notes…but how was he supposed to
Bargain
“You’re a werewolf now.”The words hit him with such force that the world seemed to tilt. Wesley’s mind blanked…‘Werewolf.’‘Werewolf.’His pulse spiked violently, panic surging up his spine as the word echoed in his mind. ‘Werewolf?’He subconsciously stepped back, knees weak and sweat pooling on his forehead.‘No! It can’t be…I’m not a-’ Wesley wanted to deny, but his brain betrayed him with a flood of memories that seemed to slap the denial out of him.He remembered the wolf that’d attacked him last night. He remembered the bite, and how he’d woken up in a pool of his own blood just this morning—proof of how he’d been mortally wounded by that wolf. And strangely, he had no wounds on him.As if-As if he’d healed someway.Wesley’s chest tightened painfully.‘No.No, no-’He sucked in a breath, ready to deny it still. Anything to escape the possibility of him being a werewolf. How could he believe that? It has to be a prank!Wesley subconsciously looked at the girl to see if she mean
What you are now
Wesley didn’t realize he’d stood up until he noticed the scrape of his chair on the cafeteria floor. The girl was already walking away, unbothered by the looks she’d stirred up. He followed her because his body seemed to have chosen for him, still buzzing from embarrassment, still trapped somewhere between panic and the lingering warmth of her breath against his ear.The cafeteria doors shut behind them, muting the chatter inside. The air outside was cooler and quieter, it left him feeling a bit relieved. She walked ahead with long, confident strides, her long hair swaying like she didn’t have a single question or doubt in the world. Wesley trailed a few steps behind, every heartbeat reminding him he had far too many problems at hand.' Why him? What did she want? How did she know about him liking Emma?' His thoughts kept loopingAnd beneath that he questioned the feeling in his chest, 'Why does it feel like the air around her pulls me in?' Like he couldn't resist for some r
Strange girl
Wesley stared at the girl like she had spoken in another language when she said she could help him get Emma back. His brain stalled, tripped over itself, and finally shut down entirely.“W-what?” he croaked, voice cracking in incredulity. The girl rolled her eyes, looking at Wesley as if he was denying something so obvious that it made him look stupid and lame.Heat rushed up Wesley's neck at his own fumble. He tried to recover, tried to pretend he wasn’t just seconds away from imploding just now.“I don’t…" He paused realizing he'd be feeding right into it. " What are you talking about even?” "Her." The girl pointed right towards Emma, her expression as dry as cement. Wesley sucked his teeth, he said fast, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m not-- no, that's not it...”He tried to deny, but his tone was unconvincing, even to himself." I don't need anything or anyone." He stabbed a forkful of food, shooting his head down as if to ignore everything else even though
Crushed
By the time class ended, Wesley's brain felt like it had been dragged across gravel. Everyone else seemed completely normal, packing their bags, joking with friends, drifting into little clumps of conversation that floated toward the hallway. Him? He just sat there, staring at the blank page on his notebook like there was something written on it that only he understood. ' Maybe I'm just overthinking everything. I should go eat first for a change. Maybe I'm just hungry...' He forced himself to stand, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed the stream of students out of the lecture hall. His legs felt strangely light, as if he'd lost too much weight. Not only that, every sound around was just sharp in his ears. The scrape of chair legs, the echoing footsteps, even the fluorescent buzz overhead. It all felt… amplified. ' Is this paranoia?' Wesley wondered, fighting the urge to press his palms to his ears so as to not look crazy. He refused to be
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