weightless / teen wolf

14 = Arcades & Alphas

"You have to tell me," Celeste pestered, "You owe me, from when you pushed me off a roof."

"Uh," Stiles snorted, "you pushed me off the roof."

"Semantics," Celeste waved him off breezily, "just tell me you locust."

"Fine, fine," Stiles grimaced, "It's, uh, a large cheese pizza topped with Neapolitan ice cream, hot fudge, sprinkles, and whipped cream."

"Dude, that's repulsive," Celeste laughed in equal parts disgust and approval, "I love it. Let's do it."

Stiles blinked.

"What?" he asked in confusion, "You don't think I'm a disgusting slob now?"

"No, I definitely think that," Celeste assured him with a shrug, "However, I also fall into that category. Plus, it will be interesting to experience such a battle for power between the savory and sweet on my taste buds."

Stiles let out a bark of disbelieving laughter, shaking his head.

"You're something else, you know that?" he asked rhetorically as he craned around in his seat to wave down Sal.

"Don't be ridiculous, Stiles," Celeste chastised, "I am human just like all of you. It's not like I'm an alien sent down to learn your earthling habits in order to enslave your species and bring you back to my planet to replenish our food supply. That would be absurd."

"That doesn't exactly make you less suspicious," Stiles' eyes sparkled with unsung laughter, "How do I know you aren't just using the hiding in plain sight tactic?"

"How do you know that all of this isn't just a computer simulation and tests aren't being run on you right now and I'm just your subconscious warning you to wake up?" Celeste put her hands on the checkered table and leaned forward with playfully narrowed eyes.

"I'm not creative enough to imagine someone as thought provokingly and wonderfully enigmatic as you," Stiles confessed hoarsely.

"What's up?" Sal entered their conversation, promptly cutting off Celeste's wide eyed reaction, "Miss me already?"

"Yeah," Stiles laughed, clearing his throat, "the distance was just getting to be too much.

"Careful boy," Sal warned with amusement lacing his tone, "you'll end up making your girlfriend here jealous."

Stiles choked on air, and Celeste blushed profusely, the latter having a cringe attack in remembrance of the last time someone made that assumption.

"She's not my girlfriend," Stiles sputtered out, "I mean, she is a girl. And my friend. But not my girlfriend. We just want my usual."

"Stiles," Sal reprimanded with an exaggerated gasp, "you have to grab her before she's snatched away. A pretty girl who isn't terrified of your eating habits? She's a keeper. Coming right up."

"Yeah, Stiles," Celeste laughed out as Sal walked back to the kitchen, "I'm a keeper."

Stiles laughed, but it sounded tinny, almost as though he had to force it out.

"Ha, ha," he spoke in an overly cheery tone, "funny. Us dating? What a hilarious joke."

A frazzled looking waitress dropped two glasses of water on the table, and both teens quickly sipped at them to hide their frowns.