Scott was rummaging through your room, curiously. This was the first time he'd been in your bedroom without having to climb through your window at 1am. He picked up an arrow from your desk.
He flicked the metal end, "I remember this," he said softly.
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"Hmm," you replied from your bed. "Stiles was our Cupid." Scott laughed loudly.
"Yeah, I'm never letting Stiles loose with a bow and arrow again." He answered. You laughed lightly.
"Why would you even think it was a good idea in the first place?" You asked, not actually hearing the story fully, since you had been grazed and taken to hospital.
"Well we were walking through the woods," Scott set the arrow down on the desk and sat beside you on the bed. "Stiles was complaining about never having a weapon apart from a baseball bat, so I told him to give a bow and arrow a go. That obviously didn't work out too well." His hand brushed against the scar on your arm and you shivered.
"I wouldn't change what happened." You smiled. Scott shook his head, the thoughts of how his carelessness of giving the bow and arrow to Stiles had hurt you.
"How can you say that?" He asked, his heart sinking, his face turning away from you to look at the floor. You placed your fingers under his chin and turned his head towards yours. You pecked his lips and lingered them a few inches from his.
