Imprint From Out Of Town {Staul-StilesxPaul}

Chapter 17: One more day

"We should probably talk," I murmured unwillingly against his thumb. He sighed dramatically, but nodded his agreement.

"You're probably right," Stiles said, untangling himself and taking a seat on the bed behind him. I sat beside him and took a gentle whiff. The bed smelled strongly of himself and Derek, and I tried to suppress the jealousy that rose in my chest. Before I could say anything, Stiles was speaking and lying a possessive hand on my thigh. "Relax- it's purely platonic. It's a pack thing for us. If you smell a little deeper, you'll catch Scott and Isaac's scent as well- from when they snuck over in the middle of the night." I did as he said, and found that he was right- which made me feel a little bit better. Knowing Derek was mated to Emmett also made my spirits rise.

We sat in silence a few minutes longer, neither one of us really wanting to have this conversation.

"What are we gonna do?" I finally burst out, my hands rubbing up and down my legs nervously.

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I- we- I don't know! We'll figure something out."

"Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing right now?" I groaned, falling back onto the bed. "You're going home, Mieczyslaw! Home- 16 hours away from me."

He swung his leg over my body, straddling my waist and setting his hands on my cheeks. "Don't get grouchy on me... I might have to start calling you sourwolf," he said sarcastically. His long fingers were trying to work out the frown lines on my forehead.

"I don't think Derek would like that very much," I smirked up at him before turning my head and kissing one of his palms.

"Once again... you're probably right," he laughed. "That's his."

Stile's smile faded and his face grew more serious. His eyes were searching mine. For answers, for a solution. For an easy way out of this. His beautiful, honey eyes were growing more sad by the second, and I simply couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed his face and smashed our lips together, a clashing of teeth and tongues as we kissed. My fingers tangled in his hair and my hand gripped his delicate hip. I wanted to keep him here, on top of me and kissing me, forever. But I knew I couldn't, and I reluctantly broke our lips apart a few moments later.

"We'll see each other at least once a month," I murmured against his mouth. He kissed me gently before responding.

"We'll call or FaceTime everyday," he added, before bending back down for another kiss.

"We'll text every day, as often as we can," I confirmed, and kissed him again.

"We can do this," Stiles said, whether he was talking to himself or me- I wasn't really sure.

"Of course we can- because we don't have a choice," I said for certain. Stiles looked at me for a moment, then laid another soft kiss on my lips.

"No- we don't," he agreed. "But we'll be okay."

As I kissed him again, I could only hope that he was right. But he had to be, we had to be okay. We're literally meant to be, the universe couldn't be so cruel could it? I chose to believe that no, it couldn't. This would be fine- he's my imprint. The perfection of every moment that his lips were on mine... and how very right his body felt against me- there's no way this wouldn't work. He's mine and I am his. Forever.

When he broke away from our kissing and his long lashes fluttered open to reveal those flawless eyes, I realized that everything would be okay. As long as I'm his, everything will be just fine.

"We'll be okay," I agreed.

He smiled, and the sight took my breath away like it always did. The love in his eyes was on full display, and it sent warm shivers through my body.

"Want to meet my dad today?" I asked suddenly, not sure where the question had come from. Maybe it's because of all the 'he's it for me- forever- always' thoughts I've been having today.

Stiles looked a little shocked, but controlled his expression quickly. "I would love to," he responded. "Only if you want me to," he added uncertainly. I just laughed.

"If I didn't want you to, I wouldn't have asked," I winked. He stuck his tongue out at me before rolling off of my body and sitting up. He ran his hands through his hair and I didn't have to have the abilities of his friends to know he was nervous again. "Hey- it'll be fine. He's going to love you," I comforted, placing myself against his back and wrapping my arms around him.

"I just- I guess I'm just realizing that we barely know each other. I mean- I don't even know what your dad does for a living," he scoffed. "Lord, I don't even know what you do for a living," he whispered to himself.

"My dad runs an auto shop on the Rez, and I work for him when I'm not running patrols for Sam," I answered easily. "Now you."

"My dads the sheriff of the Beacon Hills police department," he answered. "I'm currently attending college to become a criminal analyst... I've got a job at the station with my dad when I graduate." The last sentence was said with sadness, and once again we were brought back down to the reality of the situation. One of us would have to uproot our lives, in the near future, to be together. I ignored it and gave an impressed whistle instead.

"How did I end up with such a smart guy?" I mused.

"Beats me," he winked, playing along. "Although what with having a boyfriend- who has a sheriff for a father- it be a little difficult sometimes," he chuckled.

"I think I'll manage," I said cockily. He didn't miss the tone, and just raised his eyebrows with a snort.

"We'll see about that," he smirked, before rising from the bed. "Do I need to change, or will this do?"

I let my eyes peruse his body slowly, trying not to let my thoughts get out of hand. He was wearing a pair of grey-wash jeans that clung to him in all of the right places, and a dark green hoodie that didn't hide the ropy muscles on his arms. His feet were wearing the black converse I had grown accustomed to, and I honestly didn't think he could look more perfect. Unless of course... he wasn't wearing any clothes at all. Which is something I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing yet. Seeing him in a wet suit on our first date was a real treat though. I bit my lip as I recalled the recent memory, the suit hugging every line of his body...

"Ahem!" Stiles interrupted my thought process loudly. I cleared my throat, swallowing down the saliva that had built up in my mouth.

"That- that will do perfectly," I agonized, running a hand over my face to regain my bearings. He'll be the death of me.

"Is something wrong?" He murmured, standing between my legs again. When I opened my eyes he was smirking cockily, as if he knew what I was thinking.

"Quite the opposite," I growled, grabbing him roughly around the waist and pulling him closer. "I've changed my mind... you might have to change your clothes after all."

"Ohh?" He asked innocently. "And why's that?"

"Because if you don't... I might have to tear them off of you myself," I gave him a predatory grin.

"Well we wouldn't want you to make a scene..." Stiles winked. "But perhaps the ripping off of clothes can wait until after I meet your father?"

"I suppose," I sighed dramatically. "But only if that's a promise," I smiled crookedly.