Lose Your Mind | Stiles Stilinksi DISCONTINUED

Chapter Twenty

|Hunter's POV|

I woke up feeling something large wrapped around me. A feeling that was completely foreign to me. Finally opening my eyes and coming to my senses, I realized that I was fully engulfed by a sleeping Stiles.

My back was to him with my body pressed firmly against the front if his. His arms were glued around my waist and I couldn't help but giggle each time he took a breath. His hot breath tickling the back of my neck.

I turned around in his grip, now facing him. I put my head in his chest and watched it rise and fall. I went over the detials of last night's events, and smiled. Stiles was suddenly arroused by my small movements, and I watched as he groggily looked down at me. "Hi," he whispers, making me chuckle. His morning voice making my stomach flutter.

"Hi," I whisper in return. We sit there with each other for a moment, allowing our minds to wake up. And when it did, my eyes immediately shot wide open, and I jumped out of Stiles's grasp.

"What's wrong?" he asked concerned, becoming alert with my sudden jumpiness.

"We're in your room overnight!" I exclaim. "That's not allowed. All inmates must stay in their designated rooms. Think about about how pissed Brunski will be." I pace around the room, and Stiles observes me with a smug look on his face that made me want to slap him. "What?" I spit, annoyed.

"You worry too much. Did you forget the fact that Jorge was my personal guard? He's the one who will be here first thing in the morning." Stiles walks over to the door, attempting to open it, and ultimately failing. "Which looks to be locked. Jorge won't care. Nobody will know," he assures me.

I take a calming, deep breath to settle my nerves. After what we did to Brunski, I'm sure he'd be ready to pounce on us when he gets the chance. Even if he didn't know that we were the ones who did that to him. "Okay," I sigh. "By the way, where's Oliver?" I take notice to the empty bed and restraints next to us.

"I have no idea," he comments, looking at the empty bed as well. "Last time I saw him was the morning of visitation the other day."

We both shrug it off, continuing with our lives. I stare at the floor, deep in thought about nothing really. I feel a pair of arms snake around my waist, pulling me against their body. Stiles, of course. Something told me that this wasn't right. That we had too many other problems going on in the world. But another part of me bubbled, and felt so right. Felt at peace with the world. Something Deaton told me once popped into my mind. Regression to the mean. Nothing could ever be always good or always bad.

I feel his finger brush away the hair in my face, tucking it behind my ear. He bends down close to my face and whispers, "So about yesterday-"

Stiles was annoyingly interrupted by the sounds of the asylum doors unlocking, and sliding open to reveal a smiling Jorge.

Jorge is about to stride into the dorm, when he sees the two of us. His smile fades. "Am I interrupting something?" Yes, I thought.

"No," I said aloud. I'm about to move away from Stiles, but he just holds me to him, not letting me go.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" Jorge couldn't help but laugh.

"Uh-"

"Nothing," Stiles butts in for me. "Brunski isn't going to hear about this, right?"

"My lips are sealed," he smirked. "But considering what time it is, Hunter should probably get out of here before he does his usual inspections."

I roll my eyes. "You don't have to tell me twice." Stiles follows me out the door, only to have a hand shoved in his chest, Jorge stopping him in his tracks. "What? Can't he come with me?" I argue.