so•ber
/ ˈsōbər /
Not affected by alcohol; not drunk.
Everyone talks about the common effects of drugs and alcohol. The difference from being sober, drunk, or high. Sure, it's hard to stop drinking. Sure, it's hard to quit smoking. It's hard to g...
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"Their threats come at me, their voices are loud. All to condemn me, my face is still proud. You're gonna die tonight, I'm gonna kill you." - Stegosaurus Rex ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I laid on Stiles' chest as he slept. I narrowed my eyes at his face and then placed two of my fingers on his temple. I focused as hard as I could but when it didn't work I sighed quietly. I placed my forehead on his head and closed my eyes. Focus. Focus. Focus. Nothing.
"Holland, go to sleep." Stiles groaned.
"It's 7:00 PM and your dad has been calling you nonstop." I reminded him. He groaned as he opened his eyes.
"What the hell are you doing?" He asked when he saw I was centimeters away from his face.
"Trying to read your mind." I shrugged.
"That has to be a breach of personal space." Stiles stated. I nodded in agreement. It probably was. He leaned over me, grabbing his phone off of the nightstand.
"Yo." He said.
"I need you to come to the station. I need Holland's opinion on something." Noah said on the other side of the line.
"Why her?" Stiles asked, scrunching his face up.
"Just come here please." Noah said, hanging up the phone.
"Duty calls." Stiles smiled. I pouted slightly, causing him to press a kiss on my cheek, "look, we'll figure out the mind reading thing soon, I promise."
I nodded in response as he kissed me then got out of bed to get dressed. I knew I would be able to figure it out but it should be easier. The only reason I can't do it is because I can't focus. I can't zone in on anything anymore and it's getting harder to keep control and I'm not sure why. If I could focus I'd be able to get it, but I can't.
•••••
I walked into the station, dramatically singing 'you belong with me' by Taylor Swift. Stiles smiled as he watched me pretend to hold a microphone and spin in a circle. I threw my head back as I opened the door to the sheriff's office and instantly stopped singing. Noah stood in front of me in a suit and tie for the first time since I was like ten. My mouth dropped open in an 'o' shape that quickly turned into a grin.
"You look great, Noah!" I exclaimed. He jumped at the sound of my voice. He was nervous, it was easy to tell.
He held a small mirror in his hand, messing with his hair, "I should've got a haircut."
"Well, you know, someone your age should be happy you still have hair to cut." Stiles said, with a shrug and proud grin.
I shook my head nudging him playfully. I looked at Noah sincerely, "I think you look great."
"Well, thank you, daughter-I-should-have-had." Noah responded, raising his eyebrows at Stiles whose smile had dropped. Noah suddenly began pulling at his tie, "Oh, what the hell am I doing? This is a terrible idea."
