Heartbreak Weather , Stiles Stilinski ⁶ ✓

035 | NOT AFRAID ANYMORE

She took it out and unlocked her hotel room, pushing the door open and nodding Stiles inside before closing it behind her. It made sense for Stiles to carry on staying at her place seeing as the motel he was staying at was in a whole other borough of the city, and they figured it was safer to stick together and not be alone.

Aspen took off Stiles' jacket, letting it drift off her shoulders as she pulled her arms out from it. She then passed it to him with a soft smile, "Thanks for this."

Stiles took it and just shrugged, "It's no problem."

Aspen made a pursed lip smile as she gave him a brief, awkward nod of her head. They'd both felt the tension since Jo dropped them off outside the building— they could barely string sentences together, too distracted by the resisting of temptation.

Aspen pried the high heels off her feet and threw them to the side of the room, and then headed into the bathroom, "I'm gonna try and get this blood off my hands," she announced to Stiles— only realising her words after they'd left her lips, making her scoff as she remembered the message Allison had written on her bathroom mirror almost two months ago.

YOU THINK A TAP CAN WASH OFF ALL THAT BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS? is what the message had said. It had been scarred into Aspen's mind like a tattoo beneath the skin. Aspen had spent a long time trying to make sense of it—she knew she wasn't innocent, she knew she had blood on her hands.

What she didn't know was whose blood was on her hands that could possibly have brought Allison Argent back from the dead with the sole purpose of murdering her old best friend.

Aspen walked past Stiles who seemed unaware of what to say in response to her words followed by her scoff. Aspen walked into the bathroom, leaving the door to the bedroom open as she turned on the tap and ran her hands under the water. At least this time it's my own blood, she thought to herself as she rubbed harshly to wash the dried stains away.

Once she finally got it all off, Aspen turned off the tap and let out a huge breath as she rested her palms on the sink counter, and looked up into the reflection of herself in the mirror.

She stared at her reflection like it was a painting up for inspection. Her hair that was curled to perfection in a fancy up-do hours before hand was now a mess as strands fell in front of her face.

Aspen let out a sigh as she looked down at her thigh through the slit of her satin gown, seeing the wound was fully healed— which was a good sign. She healed from that a lot faster than she'd healed from Allison's arrows. But there was dried blood smeared all the way down her leg from the top of her thigh to her ankle which needed cleaning up.

Aspen grabbed a flannel from the towel rack and ran it under the tap to dampen it. She then jumped up on the counter to sit on the marble surface as she began to clean up the blood.

The door to the bathroom then creaked fully open as Stiles walked in a little sheepishly. Aspen looked up and their eyes met, as he noticed what she was doing. He had taken off his tie and undone a few buttons of his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up at the cuff.

"You need some help with that?" he asked.

Aspen nodded with a sheepish, pursed-lip smile. She handed him the damp flannel as he walked over to the bathroom counter, standing between her legs as she was sat on the marble top.

Aspen tried to disguise the shaky sigh she let out, but didn't do a good job of it. She felt her chest tighten up at his close proximity, feeling his leg graze her bare one. She was slightly embarrassed at how dramatically her body and her pulse would respond to his closeness.