girl almighty // s. stilinski [1]

there's something about you

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"Bea, wake up."

A familiar voice sounds in her mind, waking her from her deep slumber. There is a warm hand shaking at her shoulder, eliciting a groan from deep in her chest.

Bea's eyes slowly open, blinking away the drowsy bleariness from them as she comes back to consciousness. She extends her arm, grabbing her glasses from her nightstand and slipping them onto her face. She looks up to find Stiles' whiskey eyes looking down at her.

"What time is it?" she questions groggily, looking around at the textbooks and notebook papers spread around her bed. Her last memory is doing the calculus homework she had been getting behind on, not like it matters very much. She can pass that class in her sleep.

"Almost eleven. Now, come on. Scott needs our help," Stiles informs, taking hold of Bea's wrist and trying to drag her out of her very comfortable bed. She rips her wrist away from his grasp, cuddling further into her covers.

"Why do you always have to take care of his werewolf ass? And why do I have to be dragged into this? I literally just found out about what you're really doing in your free time not even three days ago!"

Stiles glares at her, pulling the warm covers away from her body. She squeals as the cold air of her room hits her bare legs, goosebumps immediately rising. She curls into a ball, glaring at the boy.

"Seriously, get up."

"Why do you need me anyway?" Bea asks as she relents and walks into her closet, Stiles sitting on her messy bed.

"Because Scott said two doctors disappeared and thinks it has something to do with the sacrifices. He wants us to help him figure things out," Stiles explains, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

Bea's eyebrows crease as she slips off her sleep shorts and changes into a pair of leggings, leaving the sweatshirt she had fallen asleep in on. "Why didn't you just call Lydia?"

He will not admit the real reason is because he does not want her to be home alone, so, instead, he offers, "Because you literally live across the hall from me."

She emerges from her closet, looking at the boy with her hands on her hips. "But Lydia's known about this longer than I have. Plus, she's way smarter than me."

With a scoff, Stiles stands with his arms crossed. "Oh, please. You guys basically share the same brain."

The redhead rolls her eyes, grabbing her tennis shoes and slipping them onto her sock-clad feet. "I think she has a little more knowledge on fashion and makeup than I do."

"Your fashion sense is fine. Can we go now, please?" Stiles asks impatiently, Bea heaving an exasperated sigh in response. She follows him out of her room while pulling her messy, red curls into a ponytail.