4: The Diner

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  I woke up entangled in Stiles' arms. We had fallen asleep after we wrote our essays, we started watching a movie. I don't remember what movie because I had fallen asleep just after the opening credits . I looked at his alarm clock, it was 1 a.m. I shook him to try and wake him up, but I was unsuccessful.

  Giving up, I rested back into his arms. I had written my essay about the heroine I wanted to be this year. Stiles, however, wrote the basic to improve friendships and grades bullshit everyone does. I felt bad that he couldn't write about all the amazing things him and his friends do every day and what they have done these past three years.

  I started to doze off when Stiles started to shake. He was trembling like he was afraid of something. Then he started to yell. He wouldn't stop yelling. I sat up and tried to tell him it was okay, that he was dreaming. I shook him and I kept talking to him, but it wasn't working. I raised my arm, palm open, and slapped him hard across the left cheek. He woke up.

  Relieved, I rested my head on his chest. "What happened?" He asked, unaware of the situation. "You were screaming, and shaking and you wouldn't wake up. So I slapped you, and obviously that worked." He rasied his arm to feel his cheek where my small hand had left a red mark on his face. "Damn, you hit hard." He said, smirking. He sat up and checked his clock, it was 1:30 a.m. "Shit, we fell asleep. We need to go." He got up and threw a sweatshirt on. He started to lace up his sneakers when I said, "Where are we going? It's one in the morning, nothings open."

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