DIEGO       »       hargrump‌.    

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.  diego smacked his teeth,  rolling his eyes as he pushed his weight off the wall,  menacingly walking over toward the younger.  he’s not sure how or why stiles found his knives,  but he certainly didn’t know how to use them.  which is why his sleeve is stuck in the wall caused by one of his weapons.  it’s the funniest thing diego’s seen in awhile.  it almost put a smile on his face.

                    ❝   i should leave you up here,   ❞     but he doesn’t.  instead,  he reluctantly rips the blade out from the wall,  twirling it in his hands for a moment,     ❝   teach you a lesson on how to not touch my shit.   ❞

          the thing about being perpetually surrounded by people who could tear him asunder, well, it sorta muted the intimidation factor. still, air rushes out of him in a long, relieved sigh when both his feet find full purchase against the ground as his weight suddenly & properly settles. 

          “alright, well, thanks — “ hands quickly moving to right & correct his shirt now that he’s not half dangling from the wall. lesson learned, but heeded? not exactly, because stiles glances up, a brow raising inquisitively,  a clear glutton for punishment in his never-ending curiosity. “how the hell do those even work — like — how do you do the thing?”