Magic!Stiles for Dylan♥ Happy Birthday~
Beacon Hills was gray.
Clouds blotted out the sun, autumn-brown leafs rode the wind in spirals, and it was drizzling. The day was absent of sun, yet there was heat in the air: energy, billowing and looming and Derek, familiar with the omen, watched the deserted road that branched from the Hale house driveway off into the woods.
He counted.
The oncoming storm only grew stronger as minutes ticked by. By the fifth minute, Derek almost expected a tornado to materialize on that dirt path. And then something even more powerful appeared instead. Someone.
Stiles.
shealwaysreads 