Two Cups of Coffee & a Tattered Book

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Bingo Of Our Own: Emissary Stiles Stilinski

🐾 ✦ ☕︎ 📗 ☕︎ ✦ 🐾

"Stiles? Honey, what are you doing up?"

Stiles glanced over at his foster mom, Meredith. "Just watching the stars," he said quietly before looking out the window again, his fingers idly brushing back and forth across his forearm.

"I know you love the stars, sweetie. Five more minutes and then it's time for bed."

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered. He heard her sigh and only felt slightly guilty for the reaction. He knew how much Meredith wished for him to call her mom but Stiles just couldn't. His mom died and there was no changing that. There was no replacing her and calling Meredith mom would be a dishonor to his own mother, at least that was how Stiles saw it. So there was no way he'd ever call anyone else mom. The term, the meaning, the title, the importance of the word would never fit anyone else for him like it had his mama.

Stiles heard Meredith's footsteps retreat as she headed back to her bedroom and shut the door. He was able to hear her settle in her bed for the night and heard his foster dad, Damien's voice. They weren't bad people. In fact, they were the best foster parents, foster family he'd ever had but they weren't Claudia and Noah Stilinski.

Amber eyes burned with unshed tears as Stiles hugged his knees to his chest. He remained sitting on the window seat and traced his thumb absentmindedly over the ink black paw prints that paced up and down his forearm. His eyes remained fixed on the night sky, as he stared out the window, admiring the twinkling stars. He was almost eighteen and he was ready to get out on his own. If only the stupid age thing didn't matter, he would have gone off on his own years ago.

At first, at the age of ten, he'd been okay, even though losing his dad was extremely painful. He at least still had his mom but then when Stiles was twelve he lost his mom to cancer. It nearly tore him apart. He didn't really remember much after that. It was like he blinked and found himself being introduced to the first of many foster homes.

Now at his fifth foster home he was even more lonely, despite Meredith and Damien doing everything in their power to show him how much they cared. He logically knew they loved him but knowing it in his head was one thing. Believing it in his heart was another thing entirely. He only knew of one love that would never change and his soulmark, each little paw print, was that much more precious because of that.

🐾 ✦ ☕︎ 📗 ☕︎ ✦ 🐾

Isaac Lahey was the middle child with an older brother named Jordan and two younger siblings named Erica and Heather. Jordan was formidable and fierce while the twins were rambunctious and adorable. You always knew when any one of the three of them was nearby. They were an intense trio of people.

Isaac, however? Isaac was quiet but very observant. It was one of the reasons he immediately noticed the moment his mark showed up—that and because he had been eagerly awaiting its arrival—when he was sixteen. It was the most precious thing he possessed. It was something that belonged to him and to him alone. Now, at twenty-one years old, the turquoise sparks that danced up and down his forearm were the only connection he had to his soulmate. His soulmate was someone that he desperately wanted to meet.

He didn't go out of his way to find his soulmate though. He was firm in the belief that it would happen when it was meant to. So he continued his studies at Amethyst Amherst Academy, majoring in English Literature with a minor in Creative Writing. Jordan teased him about it, but it was all in good fun and Isaac loved what he was studying which was what mattered most. He hated being so far from home, but it was worth it in the long run. He just wasn't sure why yet.

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