Allure | Stilinski [1]

TWENTY SIX ➳ THE MORE YOU KNOW

"So what's your idea of hanging out?" Rowan asked as she and Stiles drove along the highway to the soft lull of "I Want It That Way," by the Backstreet Boys. He hasn't stopped blushing because with every song comes another giggle, and with every giggle comes this heart attack and lung collapse. It's like Stiles couldn't focus, and Rowan seemed oblivious to it all.

"I was thinking frozen yogurt," he said and Rowan trailed her gaze from her car window to Stiles.

She peered at the way his moles littered his skin and travelled down to below his collar. Rowan wondered what it'd be like to just kiss that place where his neck meets his shoulder, but her fantasies were interrupted when Stiles jerked his head towards her. He reeled his head back and shook his head.

"O-Or if that sounds lame, we can do something else, like, whatever you want is fine," he stuttered, taking one hand off the steering wheel. Stiles tapped his fingers against his thigh, hoping that Rowan didn't notice the glistening sweat on the wheel.

Instead, she focused her gaze on Stiles's nervous attitude and smiled. "No, I like the sound of that."

Rowan began to thumb her way through the rest of the miscellaneous objects in Stiles's compartment. Her fingers skimmed something cold. What the hell? Rowan then proceeded to retract her hand to pull out a pair of handcuffs. She dangled them in front of her, letting the metal clink together. The sound caused Stiles to snap his neck towards her.

"Now, you could actually have two explanations to this," Rowan started, glancing over at Stiles.

"My explanation will be neither of the two you're about to say. I can guarantee you," he stated and Rowan cocked an eyebrow, grazing her fingers across the cool metal.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to think of an outrageous situation she could say. Is it just so easy that I'll overlook it or I really can't guess because it's one big secret?

"Well, I was thinking it's because your dad's a sheriff, but why would he misplace these?" Rowan saw Stiles wipe sweat off his forehead from the corner of her eye. "Unless you stole them of course."

Stiles smiled a lopsided grin, making a right into the frozen yogurt shop. He parked the car and turned to Rowan with furrowed eyebrows.

"Now, now," he said, placing a hand on his chest in mock hurt, "I'm offended that you'd think of me as a thief. What would I even use them for?" Stiles asked unlocking the doors.

As soon as he did, Rowan's hand reached for the handle, and Stiles spazzed out, hurling his body across the jeep to place his hand over Rowan's. He told her to just wait a second and she nervously nodded her head as Stiles climbed out of the car. Is he going to—he did.

The awkward teenage boy sprinted around the hood of the jeep, almost tripping over the sidewalk in front of the store. With sweaty palms, he tugged Rowan's door open and she confusedly stepped out. Do friends do this when hanging out? she asked herself. Rowan shook her head. This is not a date.

"I don't know what you'd use them for," Rowan said as Stiles and her began to walk towards the store front. He let his arms swing by his side, as did Rowan. When their hands grazed one another's they both blushed immediately before Stiles lunged for the door. He opened it and let Rowan walk in first. This is not a date. "You could probably just be an undercover, homicidal teenage boy who knows how to get away with things because his dad's a cop," Rowan rambled, feeling nervous. Her heart was in her throat as Stiles handed her a cup for her dessert.