Senior year is supposed to be the most rewarding year of high school. It's a time for making memories and cherishing the last of everything high school has to offer. It's for going on wild adventures with friends at two in the morning even though you have a paper due tomorrow in the first class of the day. It's about going to dances with your friends and skipping out early to eat at a fast food place in your fancy outfits. But so far Senior year has just been a whole bunch of bullshit and disappointment with guest appearances by lack of communication and broken trust.
She sighs heavily as the front door falls shut behind her. The pack will be over soon for the reinstated pack meeting, but at the moment the only thing she's up for is a nap.
Things are slowly being put back together, piece by piece. It's a process, but at least everyone is speaking to each other again. After all the events were clarified and truths were brought to light, they began to start acting like friends again. It hasn't been easy, but they're getting there.
As badly as she wants to head upstairs for her bed that's beckoning with its promises of soft refuge, it's best to stay downstairs and wait out the time by watching TV before everyone arrives. Instead she notices how exceptionally plush the carpet in the living room is looking.
Without it being a conscious decision, she finds herself with her stomach pressed against the floor, her head turned to the side and resting on her arms. She breathes out in contentment. This is how she prefers to spend her time after school.
Right as her eyes begin to flutter shut, the front door swings open and then closes, the presence of another person obvious as they make an egregious amount of noise.
"Babe?" Stiles calls out, his eyebrows knitting together. He is equal parts confused and panicked by his absent girlfriend. Recent events have made him more paranoid than usual.
"Over here," she mumbles, not bothering to sit up. She is committed to her spot on the floor. There's no going back now.
He lets out a sigh of relief followed by a melody of laughter as he spots her sprawled out on the carpet. "What are you doing?"
She smiles at the sound of him laughing and the sight of him grinning. It's been awhile since he had an expression that varied from a grimace or sullen frown. The past year has been a trying time that's beaten them all down, and it's gotten to the point where laughter and a smile is a small but important victory.
"Relaxing," she giggles, "Lay down with me."
"I could use a good cuddle," he decides, crawling to the floor and flipping over onto his back. She wiggles closer to him and rests her head on his chest with her arm stretched to the other side. He places his arm to cradle her back with the other arm on top of hers.
"This is nice," she breathes, molding into his side. This is the first time in over a year she's felt genuinely safe. Who knew that in a world of monsters and manipulators all it would take to feel secure is lying on the living room floor in the arms of her boyfriend.
"I've missed you," he whispers, "I'm so sorry for keeping secrets."
"I'm right here," she replies, nudging his knee with hers. "We all screwed up. You can't carry the guilt on your own. It's our burden to bear together."
"Thank you," he kisses the top of her head softly. Her hair smells like wildflower. She must've gone back to using the shampoo she used sophomore year. It reminds him of a time when everything was new; Peter was the big bad, Scott's eyes were yellow, Jackson was the biggest douche to walk the halls of Beacon Hills High, and he had a buzzcut that was probably less flattering in retrospect than he may have originally thought.
"For what?" she asks quizzically. Stiles has a habit of being exceptionally introspective.
"For being you."
"That's cheesy, Stilinski," she laughs, looking up at him.
"Oh shut up, you find it endearing," he chuckles back, pinching her side.
"Mhmm," she hums, lightly pulling at the fabric of his shirt absentmindedly.
The front door opens again. Neither of them bother to get up to see who it is. This person is quieter and a lot more considerate than Stiles had been when he entered the room.
"Hello?" Scott calls, looking around for a sign of life.
"We're down here," Stiles answers.
Scott's eyes widen as he begins to wonder if he should have knocked before entering.
"Oh my god no," Stiles understands what Scott's silence implies, "Just c'mere."
Scott moves around the couch cautiously, he doesn't smell anything suspicious, but he doesn't really feel like risking it.
"What're you doing and can I join?" Scott laughs as he looks down at the two of them intertwined on the floor. Since it's all innocent he sees no harm in wiggling his way in.
"The more the merrier," she chimes in, motioning with her leg for Scott to join them.
"Bring it in, Scotty," Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at his best friend. Scott lowers himself to their level and lays perpendicular with his head resting a few inches above Stiles's belly button. Stiles moves his one arm to drape it across Scott's collarbones.
"When's Kira coming back?" she asks. She misses the kitsune.
"Next week," Scott beams. They've all been in contact with Kira via text message, phone calls, and face-timing, but nothing beats face-to-face, in person contact. It's a shame Kira can't be here for this, she would've enjoyed seeing them like this.
Once again the front door swings open, but this time three people shuffle in and look around the room with confused expressions. Liam looks at Malia who looks at Lydia who shrugs.
"Where are you guys?" Lydia asks, her ears straining for any indication of their location.
"Laying on the floor," Scott responds.
Liam's cheeks heat up, his mind falling right into the gutter.
"It's completely innocent," she interjects, sensing the weird vibe in the air.
Liam sighs in relief, being the first one to move around the couch with Lydia and Malia right on his heels. They stare at their three friends on the floor with a wondering expression of how and why they got like that.
"Why...?" Malia wonders aloud. This behavior is odd to say the least. That's what she thinks anyway.
"Because we need it," Scott explains, "After everything, maybe its best for all of us to just lie here together."
Liam nods, sinking to his knees to crawl into the mess of limbs. He finds a spot with his head resting on Scott's mid chest section and his legs stretched out across Stiles's. The beginning of this year has been especially difficult for the beta. He still feels guilty whenever he looks at Scott and he can't look the rest of the pack members in the eye, especially not Stiles. He knows how irate he would be if someone tried to hurt Mason, let alone kill him. He can't shake the feeling that he's walking on eggshells with all of them.
"Find a comfy spot, baby wolf?" Stiles asks, a friendly tone shaping his voice. He knows how hard everything has been for Liam, and even though what he did was awful beyond words, Stiles knows how it is to royally screw up. Everyone deserves a little forgiveness.
"Yeah," Liam smiles a little bit. It's not an ear-splitting grin, but it's an improvement. One step at a time.
"All right, I'm coming in," Malia announces, moving in to spoon Stiles's girlfriend. Stiles slides his arm up to rest around her shoulders so Malia can wrap around her arms around her waist.
"Is there enough room for me over there, Scott?" Lydia asks, nodding to his side that Liam isn't occupying.
"Of course," Scott jerks his chin, indicating that she should join them. Lydia steps over their bodies carefully, not wanting to stab someone with the heal of her shoe. She curls into Scott's side, letting him rest his arm across her shoulders with Stiles's other arm on top of them both.
They lay like this for awhile, no one saying anything. The only thing they hear are the sounds of each others' heartbeats and shallow breaths. It was a good idea to ditch the regular pack meeting and opt for a cuddle sesh instead.
Cuddling is an intimate thing. There's something bonding about lying so close to someone and timing your breaths to match theirs. It may even be therapeutic. Maybe cuddling can heal a fractured friendship like a cast heals a broken bone.
Amidst the the pile of limbs there's a certain sensation that arises from the cuddle puddle in the middle of the living room floor. A sensation that speaks more than any words ever could.
I forgive you. I love you. We're going to be okay.
