forgotten || S.STILINSKI

006

you jolted up in your bed, the red eyes from earlier today haunting you in your dreams. 

it was just a mountain lion, so why did you feel a cold shiver run down your spine every time you thought about those eyes?

"mountain lion, it was just a mountain lion." you whispered to yourself, crawling out of bed and walking downstairs to the kitchen. quickly jogging your way over to the fridge, you yanked it open, hoping to find something like a cookie or two for a late night snack. "damn it, nothing." you muttered under your breath angrily, closing the doors hurriedly before that annoying beeping noise could ring through out the house. 

you turned around and sprinted back up the stairs and back into your room. plopping down on your bed you sighed heavily before hearing a light tapping at your window, causing you to turn your head over towards the noise in a panicked way. picking yourself up off your bed again, walking towards the window and pulling it open to see a smiling stiles.

"hey pretty girl." he called, pulling himself through your window. 

"hi ugly boy." you responded, walking back over to your bed and sitting down on it tiredly. 

"that's offensive." he scoffed, laying down next to you. "you look nice- i mean not that you don't always look like but you do look nice now." he commented, turning his head over to look at you. you looked over at him, staring into his chocolate eyes filled with joy. 

"sorry if it's offensive, but it's the truth." you grinned, turning your head back to look at the ceiling. you stared at the paper butterflies you had hung up, harpers personal favourite when it came to decorating. 

stiles seemed to notice you looking at the butterflies, as he too soon turned his attention to the blue paper butterflies hanging from your ceiling. "those are nice, did you make them?" he asked, ripping your gaze from the butterflies. 

you nodded slowly, looking back at your ceiling. 

"cool." you heard him whisper, causing you to smile lightly.

"hey, do you think the female writers in the eighteen hundreds knew their fears would stay true?" you asked out of the blue, suddenly engulfed by the idea.

"what?" stiles asked, his face painted with such confusion it amazed you. 

"you konow - like little women? amy march's speech about marriage?" you responded, smiling softly.

"what's a little woman?"

"you know what? never mind." you huffed, sitting up in your bed. "if you don't know about 'classic' literature, i have a feeling you're not very smart." you laughed, slapping him lightly on the arm.

"i'll have you know i am actually very smart, it's scott who's the dumb one." stiles corrected, jokingly slapping you back.

"sure, believe that stilinski, but i know my facts from your lies." you grinned, getting up and shuffling through your room towards you bookshelf, trying to find the book. you smiled, recognising the cover and grabbed the book from the shelf. "read through this and you'll see what i mean." you told him, passing him the novel.

"two words for you - hell no." stiles replied, shoving it back in your arms. 

you huffed, giving it back to him and shoving him off your bed and to the window.

"bye stiles." you told him as you slammed your window shut, laughing a tiny bit. you watched the pale boy hop off your roof and onto the ground below. "he's such an idiot." you sighed to yourself, flopping down onto your bed to finally try and sleep.