Dear Rabbit

Chapter 22

Slow. It was slow and contentedly the way in which I woke up that morning. Cocooned in warmth, softness beneath my head and light sounds of sleep in my ear from another person. Little sleepy words that sounded incoherent. Unlike all the stories I had ever read, I didn't find myself jerking awake at the knowledge of the other person, but merely sighing lightly and snuggling further into them. I was far too comfortable and too sleepy to really feel shock at the knowledge of the other person or care enough to jerk awake. The thing that made me and the other body wake with a jolt was the loud shrill harping of an alarm clock blearing on and on and on. It was like a great big air raid siren that refused to let the feeling of sleep return to me.

I could hear the other person who I'd identified as Stiles grumbling and groaning about being abruptly awoken when he could easily be sleeping and having whatever dream he was having. At least I wasn't the only one who disliked being awoken at whatever godawful hour it was. I felt somewhat stuffy and sickly still but whatever horrendous plague had come over me yesterday as if it was Athens in 429BC had, for the most part, gone away. I felt more than saw Stiles' arm moving off of my lower back to slam on the snooze button like I'm sure he did every morning before school. The arm quickly settled back against my lower back, curling around it to pull me tighter into our apparent napping session. I was quick to settle back against him with my face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sighing as I started to drift back to sleep. It was nice to just sleep next to someone, to have that comforting presence of another person...particularly with my recent paranoia.

Somewhere outside the room I could just about make out the sound of fairly heavy foot falls making their way nearer to the two of us. Followed quickly by the opening of the door to Stiles' room. The foot falls stopped a few steps into the room and apparently the owner was unimpressed by our unanimous decision to ignore them and continue with our early morning nap.

"C'mon you two, get up." I lifted my head with much effort and a blurred figure appeared to be in the doorway without my glasses on all I could really make out was the sandy coloured uniform that the Sheriff always wore. I grumbled returning my face back to its place in the crook of Stiles' neck complaining quietly about the parent in the doorway.

"Nooo!" I let Stiles grapple with the bed covers pulling them over the top of us with a loud noise as if it would be enough to deter the Sheriff and return us back to our nap. Surprisingly, bed covers do not make good invisibility cloaks and the Sheriff moved further into the room hands grasping at the covers and pulling them all the way off of the two of us. We must have looked a frightful sight grumbling and moaning, curled up in the centre of the bed watching as sleep was ripped from our hands.

The Sheriff said nothing after that, merely left us lying there. The sound of the front door closing and a car starting told me that he'd left to go to the station and I couldn't help but get that antsy feeling that told me I should get up no matter how comfortable I was. I shifted myself out of Stiles' arms as I sat up, one arm rubbing my eyes as the other shifted about on the bedside table in an attempt to get my glasses, nearly knocking them off in the process. Stiles was still groaning about sleep when I got my glasses on and nearly panicked at the time on his clock. One hour. We had one hour to get up, get dressed, eat, and get to school. One hour!

"Stiles, get up." I scurried across the room to the bag that was clearly mine and clearly had been dropped off by Norman last night after the Sheriff had phoned him. If there was one thing I could say about Norman it was that he was a godsend in many ways. I can't imagine what it'd look like if I stumbled into school in clothes from the other day, my hair a mess, and without any of my books or pens...it probably wouldn't go down too well especially with the teachers and Mr. Harris, and with Parent Teacher Conference in merely a few days I really didn't want to piss of Mr. Harris any more than I already had. The last thing I needed was mum being disappointed in me about school...although my maths grade was probably already disappointing, just scraping a C isn't exactly the best. Perhaps I should talk to Lydia about that? Even Scott, who was doing badly in school at the moment, was doing better than me in Maths...