Pure × Isaac Lahey

51.

x x

       Stiles Stilinski sat on the front steps of Elora's house as morning dew graced the lawns of Beacon Hills, eyes swollen and legs jittering as he chewed on his fingernails.

       He could feel Elora's terror as his forearm pressed into her throat.

       But he didn't know if it was real, and it terrified him.

       Stiles' head jerked up as Derek's car pulled into the driveway, the shaky teen rising from the porch as he wiped across his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

       Elora had met eyes with him before she'd unbuckled her seatbelt, the connection proving she had felt the same experience as Stiles.

       The teen's heart was racing as El climbed out of the Toyota SUV, the two remaining silent as they met in the middle.

       Stiles was shaking, nearly out of breath. "What's going on?"

       El softly shook her head, teeth chattering behind purple lips. "I think we're all about to go through hell."

       "Was I dreaming?" asked Stiles, wringing his hands.

       "How about we go inside?" Elora motioned toward her house, unlocking the door with only a thought. She glanced back to her cousin, Derek already on the phone with Isaac to tell him he'd gotten her home.

       Stiles followed El into the house, his pulse beyond natural. "I - I felt like I was unable to control my body...like I couldn't stop anything I was doing."

       A pair of full tea cups appeared on the countertop at the turn of Elora's palm, a Timberwolves sweater appearing on her body in attempt to rid her of a freeze. She stayed quiet as she sat at the kitchen counter with a bowl of sugar cubes, a small jug of milk sliding on.

       "I'm terrified, El."

       "Me too," she softly said, eyes on the swirling tea leaves within her cup.

       A tear etched down Stiles' cheek, "It's me, isn't it?" There was barely a lack of question in his voice as he spoke. "I'm the nogitsune."

       Elora hadn't touched her tea, her thumb idly resting on her lower lip. "It could've been a dream." There was a soft pause, "It felt like a dream."

       "It wasn't," said Stiles, a crack in his words from an overflow of emotion. "It couldn't have been, not if we both felt it. Not if both of us experienced the situation." He looked up, eyes meeting hers. "It's me, I'm the one the Oni are looking for."

       "It's not you, not actually you. If...if this thing that happened is real, then it means it's inside of you. It's hiding within you because it doesn't have a physical form." El lightly cleared her throat, "It can't create the chaos it craves without a body, so it finds a host."

       "Me."

       "Maybe."

       Stiles only sighed, "You don't have to sugar coat this for me, El. It's obvious that something's wrong with me. This is the only explanation."

       "The only other question," El said, "is if we tell the others."

       Stiles' brows furrowed, motioning a thumb toward the window. "Can't Derek hear us?"

       "The house is warded." El took a small sip of her tea, finally feeling warmth in her body. "Derek knows the nogitsune came, I didn't tell him it looked like you."