Maybe I Was Wrong (Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 50

“I-I don’t think we should trust him,” I say.

“Grace, he’s family,” Allison says. “You know how important family is.”

Well, you didn’t get shoved against a tree by your own grandfather, Allison.

“I got it,” Stiles says, ending our disagreement. “Kill Jackson. Problem solved.”

“He fought with us against Peter, you remember that?” Scott asks.

“Yes, but what did we just find out? He got the bite from Derek. It's funny how he just got exactly what he wanted by supposedly risking his life for us, it's funny,” Stiles says.

“Yeah, it doesn't mean he's not still worth saving,” Scott says.

“It's always something with him, though,” Stiles complains.

“We can’t just kill him now, Stiles,” I say. “He’s a piece of shit, but he doesn’t deserve it.”

“He doesn't know what he's doing,” Scott adds.

“So what?” Stiles asks.

“I didn't either,” Scott says. You remember when I almost killed you guys and Jackson? I had someone to stop me. He has nobody.”

“That's his own fault,” Stiles says.

“Don’t be so heartless,” I snap at him. “What happened to ‘Grace, stop killing innocent people’?”

“He’s not innocent, he’s-...” Stiles trails off, realising he was being a little hypocrite.

“If we can save him, we should try,” Scott decides.

***

So, we’re back to guarding Jackson’s police van, and Scott and Allison have ventured out to their car somewhere to make out or something, leaving Stiles and I behind. We found a small forest near a parking lot that was hopefully abandoned enough for us to hide Jackson here.

We were so bored we ended up walking around a bit, ending up at a big tree with the van still visible in the distance. We both sit down here, leaning against the tree, and to my surprise, he quietly rests his arm around my shoulders. I find myself leaning into him, and that’s when I notice something’s different. I back away a little to look at him.

“Are you letting your hair grow?” I ask him with a small smile.

“Oh, yeah,” he smiles, taking a hand through his hair, which is now not really a buzz cut anymore, but just awkwardly short. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before. “Now it’s just a weird length.”

“I think you’d look nice with longer hair,” I tell him before I can stop myself. 

“I- are you implying I look like shit now?” he jokes, cheeks heating up.

“No,” I say. “I’m not implying anything.”

Except maybe that I sort of adore you.

“Okay, then,” he smiles. “Thanks.”

“I don’t care about your hair,” I add. “You always look good. I mean- ‘cause you’re a good person, and stuff.”

“You think so?” he mutters, holding my gaze. I get so caught up in looking at his face, I notice the tiny fly crawling on his cheek.

“Mmh,” I hum, bringing my hand up to his face, trying to get the little insect to fly away.

“Uh,” Stiles’ eyes widen and I can’t wipe the smile off my face when I feel his skin heating up against my fingers.

“There’s a fly,” I say quietly, leaning closer, maybe because I want something I can’t have, maybe because I like to pretend I can have it, maybe because I like torturing myself.