Hypervigilance {Stiles Stilinski Book Three}

Chapter 11

I wake up in the Hale vault with all eyes on me. "Oh thank God she's awake." Scott says. Everyone seems to have relieved looks on their faces, but Stiles just stares blankly at the floor. "So you guys found a cure?" I ask.

"Yeah, it was in here the whole time." Scott answers. "Well I'm glad nobody died today." I state. Stiles seems to scoff at my comment. "You're not even gonna look at me?" I question getting up from the ground.

"Why should I? You can't even keep a simple promise." Stiles says. "Are you kidding me? He was gonna kill you. I had to do something! You sure as hell weren't going to!" I shout. "I think we should give them a second." Scott whispers.

Scott and Kira exit the vault. "It's not even the fact that you killed him. You finished the countdown. Finishing it was just as sadistic as him starting it. The look on your face before you passed out, you were pleased with yourself." Stiles states.

"Yeah. I was pleased that I managed to save your life! That I managed to push my dying self off the ground to keep the only person I truly love alive. That I was able to ignore every ounce of pain shooting through my body. I'm a glad he's dead? Yes! Because that means you aren't." I argue

Stiles opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again. "I get it. You're no longer willing to see the girl under the monster. It was going to happen sooner or later. I'm so sorry for saving your life. Next time I won't." I reply tears streaming down my face. I look him in the eye one last time, and his face seems to soften.

I ignore the look of guilt in his honey brown eyes, and walk out. Scott and Kira are waiting outside. I could tell that they had heard our conversation by the looks on their faces. Scott opens his mouth but I stop him.

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go home." I state. I had to walk home since I rode here with Stiles. The crisp night air did nothing to calm my nerves. My sadness turned into rage. I have a tendency to do that, focus on anger.

I apparently walk very fast when I'm angry because in no time I'm at my front door. I lay down in my bed hoping to sleep this off, but I can't seem to find a comfortable position that doesn't have Stiles in it.

For the past several months it's been the same thing. Stiles is the little spoon and we sleep in the middle of the bed. My head nuzzles into the crook of his neck and his scent lulls me to sleep.

That is not the case tonight. I'm alone, on the right side of the bed, only my own scent in the room. I've forgotten how to sleep alone.

After hours of tossing and turning, I manage to fall into a dreamless sleep. You know the kind where you wake up feeling worse than you did when you went to sleep? When I wake up, I find that my phone has been blown up by calls and texts from Stiles. I turn it off and leave it on the desk.

Nobody would understand me here. I know who I need to talk to. I slide open the window and crawl through. "What are you doing here?" She questions. "So you can sneak in through my window, but I can't go through yours?" I reply.

Malia sighs. "I don't want to talk about it." Malia states. "I have no clue what you're talking about. All I know is that I came here to rant." I say. "Why aren't you ranting to Stiles?" Malia asks. "I think we're taking a bit of a break." I answer.

I then explain everything that went down with Stiles. It only makes me angrier, so I do pull ups on her door frame. It's the only way to get out any anger. "Stiles made this whole big deal about the promise I made him, but what about the promise he made me? He said he'd always accept me. You should have seen the way he looked at me Malia, like I was a monster." I rant.