When i awoke i found myself very aware of the fact that my legs were tangled with someone else's. I was also very aware of the fact that the owner of aforementioned legs was still sound asleep, his eyelashes fluttering slightly and lips parted. I couldn't help the smile on my lips as i resettled against the cushions, careful not to wake the sleeping boy beside me whilst returning my eyes to the tv which was airing a crappy soap opera.
During this time i took the opportunity to text Scott.
"He's alright," I typed, adding "He definitely blames himself and wasn't sleeping. He's asleep now though. I'll keep you posted :)" I sent the message, watching people make terrible decisions on the television until my phone vibrated to let me know that Scott had replied.
"Okay, thanks for texting... and for getting him to go to sleep." I smiled, thinking about how lucky i was to have become friends with such lovely people - despite the events that we had all experienced in recent weeks.
"Maybe you could come over later?" I suggested in reply. For several minutes there was no response, but, soon enough, my phone buzzed again.
"I think he needs just you right now, he was really upset when you got hurt." I couldn't help the small smile that possessed my lips, and i think possessed is the perfect word as it seemed like, though my brain told me i was stupid, my body was doing something entirely different.
-------
The soap opera ended half an hour later, being replaced by 'Phineas and Ferb', at which i had to stop myself from singing along to the opening sequence out of fear for waking Stiles.
A short while later i heard someone fumbling with their keys at the door, indicating that his dad was returning home from a shift.
"Stiles?!" He yelled from outside of the door, clearly unable to get in. Beside me, Stiles jolted awake at the sound of his name, glancing around worriedly, his eyes settling on me and softening slightly. He pressed his eyes together, about to get up but looking awfully groggy from sleep.
"I've got it," I assured softly, earning a grateful smile. I quickly jumped off of the couch, untangling our legs, and smoothed down my clothes quickly as i jogged over to the door.
"Stiles?" The Sheriff called again just as i twisted the lock, opening the door. "Oh, Freya" he said, lowering his voice to a normal volume and stepping in to the house, carefully closing the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I just came to see if Stiles was okay..." I said, trailing off as the boy in question walked over, having woken himself up a bit more.
"Hey dad," He said, smiling slightly - an expression that rarely popped up given recent events.
"Did you sleep?" The Sheriff asked, sounding both relieved and surprised as he took in our appearances properly, smirking at our crumpled clothes, and moved towards the kitchen. Though the emotions were strongly communicated in his words, i could feel them too, oozing out of him as he spoke. It was nice to feel the emotions of others be positive for once and not those of grief and pain. In the short time that i had been an empath i had felt very little else.
"Yeah, no dreams or anything!" Stiles reassured him, leaning his back against the counter
"Oh thats great kid" His dad grinned, pulling him in for a quick hug. "So, Freya, did you want to stay for a late dinner? It's almost eight o'clock" He offered once they pulled away. My eyes widened slightly,
"Oh my goodness! I didn't realise it was that late. Thank you, really, but i should go, Jordan freaks out a bit... particularly after everything."
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Canvas (Stilinski - 1)
Fanfiction"Stop moving you idiot" I exclaimed loudly "i'm trying to get the tone right and you're screwing up the shadows!" ----- Freya didn't care about boys. She didn't care about her hair or her clothes. She cared about art; the way that a brush layere...