Yours (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter Twenty Four

That night, we weren't able to find much else. Stiles dropped me off with Scott, and we went inside. Scott sat on my bed, dropping my duffel bag on the ground. The room was cleaned, the bed made, the clothes picked up. I looked over to Scott who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Stiles and I thought it'd be nice if you came back to a clean room," he said. I gave him a small smile.

"Thanks, broski. Now, what's the deal with Allison?" I asked, giving him a look. He sighed and explained their predicament. Allison's father didn't want Scott to have anything to do with her, but of course they were meeting up in secret. I groaned, listening as the story progressed. "That man will never learn," I said about Mr. Argent. It would be so much better for him to have his daughter's full honesty. He would feel so much better, but instead he's got this whacky stigma about dog-people. Scott looked up at me, as I patted his back.

"You guys are gonna be just fine. Obviously, I can't tell the future, but Allison's a good egg," I said. Scott rolled his eyes.

"Now, what's the deal with Stiles?" Scott asked. I groaned, falling back on the bed. I put a hand over my head, and Scott looked down at me with a goofy grin.

"I don't even know. He's definitely still got a thing for Lydia, and I swear sometimes I think she likes him too. I just— I don't want to overstep. He's just—"

"Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"All you talk about is other people's feelings. What about your own?" He asked, standing up. I looked at him with a confused face for a second. "What?" He asked. I sat up with a dramatically shocked expression.

"I just— I can't believe you actually said something remotely intelligent and observant. I'm just, I'm shocked, Scott. I really a— oof!" I was interrupted as he hit me in the face with a pillow. I laughed, as I fell back. He looked at me seriously, and I shrugged.

"Scott, my feelings have never changed-"

"We all know that, Y/n. The way you look at him, it's like you revolve around each other. He barely left your side during your whole hospital visit," Scott said exasperated. I blushed, and he rolled his eyes. "And the whole obvious heartbeat thing. It's crazy to listen to sometimes. It's like you're about to have a heart attack." I stared at him with suspicious eyes.

"Does Stiles' heart sound like that?"

"I'm not going to tell you that."

"What about your weird pheromone scent thing? Give me an advantage here!" I protest. He shook his head, heading out of the door.

"This is something you'll have to use that big head of yours for," he said. I rolled my eyes at his insult, and looked over to the wall of photographs next to my mirror. It was funny that a majority of them were Stiles and I, mostly taken by Scott, but still. I don't think I can remember a time when I was without him. Did that make my feelings inevitable? Was it just time? How the hell was I supposed to tell the difference? I buried my head in my pillow, pulling the blanket over my shoulders. I fell asleep.

—

The next day, we had a pop quiz in Chemistry. For the first time, I was terribly unprepared. I sat next to Stiles, tapping my pencil on the table and my foot on the ground.

"All right, it's causing me severe mental anguish to say this, but he's right..." Stiles said. I give him a quizzical look.

"About what?" I asked. Scott turned to me.

"Lydia, and I know," he said.

"What if the next body part she steals is from someone who's still alive?" Stiles said. I glared at him.