Bisexual ↣ Stiles Stilinski

0.2

I do not own Teen Wolf or anything affiliated with it. But I do own my own characters and plot lines.

0.2 | Night Jobs and First Line

a l t h e a (al-thee-ya)

"Are you guys okay with closing up by yourselves?" My dad asks Scott and I while putting on his coat.

I look over my shoulder at him, pausing my work that's consisted of putting away un-used bandages and little bottles of medicine. Dad told me that he wanted to leave work a little early because he wanted to make me something for dinner since he didn't get to make me breakfast.

"Yeah, Dad. We'll be fine." I nod before putting away the rest of the supplies.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure that your daughter doesn't do anything stupid, sir." Scott walks into the room with a smile on his face. Dad nods at Scott in acceptance before glancing at me once more.

I roll my eyes. "Go." He raises his hands into the air in surrendering, walking out of the room. "And I want tacos for dinner!" I yell to him, the bell signaling that he left already. Hopefully he still heard me.

"Hey, will you flip the open sign to closed while I put everything away?" I ask Scott, already walking over to the metal table in the middle of the room that has different supplies scattered on the smooth surface.

Scott replies with a simple 'sure' before walking out of the room. I shiver as my hands touch the surface of the table, and I remember the inviting warmth of Stiles's lacrosse gloves.

After their practice finished up, I somehow lost sight of the pale boy. The white gloves are currently on my desk in my bedroom, along with the outfit that I was wearing at school earlier. Once I arrived to my house after lacrosse practice I decided that I'll return the gloves to Stiles tomorrow, and also that it would be wise to change into something more warm and comfortable to wear at work. I ripped off my clothes and threw them haphazardly onto my small desk then changed into a pair of black Nike leggings, a teal long-sleeved Pink shirt, and a pair of light brown UGG ankle boots.

"Hey, Althea. Can you hand me the hydrogen peroxide, gauze, tape and a bandage?" Scott asks me, walking back into the room. I look at him with my eyebrows raised.

"Um, did you get shot or something?" I laugh, grabbing the last supplies - which are conveniently the ones that Scott needs - off of the table and hand them to him. The supplies that I had handed Scott are falling out of his arms so I reach out and grab the gauze and the tape.

"Bit. I actually got bit," Scott answers and leads me towards the bathroom. Once we reach it, I flip the switch to turn the light on and we set the supplies onto the counter.

Scott immediately lifts his shirt to reveal a very fit torso along with a very bloody bandage. I gag at the sight. "Do you need any help?" I ask, looking away. Even though I work as a veterinary assistant, that doesn't mean I don't get queasy when I see blood.

"Maybe," he replies. Without saying anything else, Scott rips off the bandage and I let out a squeal and look away. "Wha—" Scott breathes out and I take that as my cue to turn around. I look at him hesitantly, but refuse to look any lower than his shoulders.

"What?" I ask in confusion. "Is it infected? Are you dying? Good thing your mom is a nurse, am I right?" I say quickly. Usually when I'm in uncomfortable situations, I get really weird and I make jokes that aren't funny.

"No, I'm not dying," Scott says, and he sounds very annoyed.

I roll my eyes and finally look down, expecting the worse. But, to be honest, I was not expecting to see clear, tan skin. "I thought you said you got bit. You scared the hell out of me!"