Inked Emissary

Chapter 3: A Fresh Start

  Stiles arrived late that night. The apartment was on the third floor and as Stiles climbed he thought about his decision. That just depressed him so he decided to concentrate on the weight of his luggage but that was a mistake as he only ended up feeling immensely tiered. Then it was finally there  number twenty eight, a blue door, like the rest with a brass number.

  Stiles raised his fist and hesitated for a split second before knocking. A few seconds after that the door opened wide and there stood a young man of about eighteen with blond hair down to his shoulders. He wore a flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and jeans that had obviously seen better days. What really caught Stiles' attention was his eyes, they were shadowed with mistrust, great, Stiles thought, two paranoid strangers living in close quarters.

"Hey, um my names Stiles, I'm your new room mate," Stiles offered up an awkward smile, God he had terrible people skills.

"Oh okay, nice to meet you dude, I'm Thomas, Thomas Graham," Thomas gave Stiles a smile that didn't fully reach his eyes, he stood to one side and beckoned for Stiles to enter the apartment.

***

  Stiles had unpacked the night before, adding a slight personality to the bare white walls of his new room. He hadn't slept that night, despite having his pillow and the smell of his old room that came with it. Already Stiles missed Malia and his dad, he had to keep reminding himself that they were safer without him around.

  He rose from his bed at seven and dressed hastily. He was expected at the shop at eight and Stiles didn't want to be late, this job would be the only thing holding him up until he started college and got his student loan. He walked slowly into the kitchen to the sizzling sound of something frying, that something being bacon by the smell.

  Thomas stood at the stove, shirtless and facing away from him but Stiles could tell from his stance that the guy knew he was there.

"Do you want bacon?" Thomas asked without turning round, confirming Stiles' thought.

"Um, no thanks, I'm not really a breakfast eater," Stiles said trailing a hand over the kitchen counter as he made his way to the cupboards. All he wanted was a glass of water.

  Thomas turned to him with a raised eyebrow," you do realize that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You've graduated early, that shows you have some brains." The way he said it told Stiles he hadn't meant to be unkind but the words were very patronizing. The guy seemed to have the same level of social skills that Stiles had.  The makings of a close friendship, two guys that are not only paranoid buggers but also have the same amount of social prowess as Isaac Lahey has style, Stiles thought. I hate his stupid scarves.

"I know, my dad says it all the time. I just can't stomach eating in the morning," Stiles said, searching the cupboards for a glass. The truth was that he could barely stomach eating at any time of the day.

  He finally found one and he smiled slightly at the small, stupid victory. When he turned around though, the smile was replaced by a grimace as he jumped out if his skin. There in the corner stood the bandaged monster that still haunted him.

"You okay?" Thomas asked in an offhand manner.

"Yeah, thought I saw something in the corner but it was just a trick off the light," Stiles ripped his eyes away from the Void and laughed nervously.

***

  Stiles had left the kitchen hurriedly and driven to work without glancing back at that corner. Mr Jones had been waiting outside the shop, eating  an apple and saying 'good morning' to an elderly lady that passed.