"Please tell me you're here for a reason. I'm hardly in the mood for... anything."
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"Please tell me you're here for a reason. I'm hardly in the mood for... anything."
"I'm still struggling to understand what's so great about a birthday. I'm older-- that's really not exciting. I'm just pleased to have not been murdered yet. Honestly didn't expect to last this long."
“Anyway so this woman is all, ‘you can’t perform spontaneous surgeries on our patients. You’re not even a doctor.’ And I’m like, ‘geez, lady, just let me follow my dreams.’ She was honestly so rude. Like, she really hurt my feelings there. It’s almost like she didn’t believe in me.”
"So, after a certain shelf-related incident the other day, I'm starting to doubt my skills as a werewolf. Problem is, I'm not exactly sure how I'd go about.. y'know, fixing that. Googling 'werewolf training' only brought up results that I'd much rather forget about. It’s a sex thing, apparently."
“You know it’s WRONG to sneak up on a person I could have killed you.”
"Mind giving me a hand? Unless you're just here to watch me laying on the ground? No rush."
Putting on his jacket was proving to be harder than previously imagined. Stiles had one sleeve on, but the other was a struggle, and he couldn’t get it on all the way. Grimacing, he steeled himself against the pain to come before yanking it on, a hiss of pain escaping. It took him a moment to compose himself before he looked up again, feeling eyes on him.
“What,” he snapped, though it was fully possible they’d only taken a glance at him.
"Here's to another shitty week. I'm going to go home and sleep-- beats getting drunk and waking up in an alley. Nobody can tell me that I don't know how to live."