Stella Argent - Stiles Stilinski

Chapter 26

Lately, I've been plagued by the same recurring nightmare. It's a haunting vision of my mom having her throat brutally slashed, and what makes it even more terrifying is that the assailant is a menacing werewolf.

But tonight, something changed. This time, it was me who fell victim to the gruesome throat-slitting in my dream. I jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding with fear.

The prospect of going back to sleep was too daunting, so I checked the clock: 2:35 am.

With trembling hands, I threw on a jacket, grabbed my keys, and hastily left my house.

"Hello," a groggy voice answered when I made a call.

"Um, can I come over?" I asked, my voice shaky with anxiety.

"Stella, are you okay?" he inquired.

"I'll tell you when I get there." I hung up the phone and focused on the road.

When I finally reached my destination, I knocked on the door, and Stiles quickly opened it, his eyes widening as he saw my distressed state. He pulled me into a tight hug and led me upstairs.

"Okay, so what's wrong?" he asked after closing the door behind him.

I poured out my heart, recounting the nightmares that had been plaguing me, including the horrifying one from tonight. By the time I finished, tears were streaming down my face.

Stiles remained silent, a look of concern and something else, something he seemed to be holding back, in his eyes. I didn't dwell on it.

"Do you want to sleep here?" he offered, then seemed to hesitate. "I mean if—"

I eagerly accepted the offer. "Yes, please."

I left his desk chair and went over to his bed, lying down. Stiles got up, turned off the light, grabbed a pillow and a blanket from another room, and settled himself on the floor.

We both lay there in silence for a while.

"Stilinski," I whispered.

"Argent," he whispered back.

"Do you think things are going to get better?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Stiles stayed quiet for a few seconds. "Yeah," he finally replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

Silence enveloped us once more. I couldn't bring myself to sleep; the fear of my nightmares worsening lingered like a dark cloud. There was something strange about Stiles, too. It often seemed like he hadn't slept in days.

"Are you awake?" I whispered to him.

"Yeah," he immediately responded.

"Can you sleep up here with me?" I asked.

More silence.

"Um, sure," I heard Stiles shuffling around on the floor, and then the bed sank on the left side of me.

After that, everything faded to black.

I woke up the next day to the sensation of a warm body wrapped around me, and unsurprisingly, it was Stiles. Carefully, I extracted myself from his embrace, gathered my belongings, and left his place. It was already 7:15 am, and we had school.

I returned home and crawled back into bed. A few minutes later, Allison entered my room to bid me farewell, assuming I was still asleep. I chose not to respond.

Since I woke up, my thoughts had been consumed by Stiles, and I couldn't figure out why. Did I like him more than just a crush? I pondered over the possibility, though I doubted he felt the same way, considering how often I was mean to him.