Midnight Scarlet » Stilinski

Twenty-Five

I wrote this chapter really quickly, so sorry if it's a bit choppy. Like always, VOTE. COMMENT. FAN. ENJOY. :D Love ya~ hpwand16

P.S.~ The song at the end of the chapter is "I Would Die For You" by Matt Walters.

                                                  Chapter Twenty-Five

                                                            • Aubrey •

I wake up in his arms. For once, I let myself indulge in this simple bliss― the sheer happiness of waking up next to someone you love. Watching the rising sun warm their face, wash across their ruffled hair. A smile compliments my lips as I take him in, my eyes scanning his face. He looks younger in sleep― more peaceful. I lean over, inhaling his sweet scent, and kiss him.

            My touch wakes him up and he blinks the haziness from his eyes, cracking a grin and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Good morning, you,” he says, voice rough with sleep; it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

            “Good morning, handsome.”

            “Handsome? I could get used to that.” With his arm still wrapped around me, he turns his face to stare up at the ceiling. Stars decorate it, glowing faintly in the half-light. I’m reminded of my family, my mom falling asleep accidentally next to me, pointing at the florescent stars.

            I press my face into the hollow of his neck. “I could get used to waking up next to you.” Even as I say the words, an inevitable thought is pressing at the back of my mind: Today is the day that you’re going to die. It’s Peter’s deadline, and I don’t have an answer for him.

            Oddly, I’m not scared or panicked or anything. Right now, I’m just impossibly happy― despite the fact that Ben is dead and that I murdered a human last night; I am aware of that, in the distant way I’ll probably always be aware of it. But dying doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. Not anymore. At least I’ve experienced true freedom― true happiness and love and pain and joy and loss and forgiveness. Because of him, I’ll die a saint and not a sinner.

            Twining my fingers with his, I kiss him again before sitting up and stretching out my sore limbs. I end up dragging him with me, his lips tracing my collarbone while I giggle. I spring from the bed and run towards the closet, away from his laugh and his arms. As I change back into my jeans and a fresh shirt of his, I call out, “I want today to be normal, okay? Go-to-school-hang-out-with-my-friends normal. For once, I want to pretend that everything is okay and normal.” Ha. Normal. I’m not sure I even know the definition of the word.

            “Normal. No werewolves or kanimas or people drowning in a pool of their own blood. Got it.” I stick my head out of the closet and glare at him and his vivid imagery. He just offers a big, goofy grin.

            He makes me breakfast― or, attempts to. Cracked eggs litter the counter, the uncooked yolks a disgusting shade of yellow. Laughing, I keep trying to clean up the mess, but he breaks another one and the whole thing starts again. Next, Stiles tries pancakes― from scratch. Needless to say, that’s another failed kitchen venture.

            Thirty minutes later, we arrive at school with flour in our hair.

            Lydia saunters up next to me, hooking her arm through mine. Since when did she get it in her head that we were best friends? She sees my incredulous look and quickly lets go, saying, “Looks like someone is incredibly happy today.” Then, she leans over towards Stiles, close to his face. A few days ago, I would have been overwhelmed with jealously. Now, I know that while Lydia isn’t exactly harmless, she’s not interested in him at all― and finally, the feeling is mutual. “You know what would make her happier? A Prada purse.”