duodécima luna. [a stiles fanfic]

cinco.

Such as a boy.

"This is not funny." Violeta all but seethed but Tomei just wiped tears from under her eyes.

"It really is." Tomei said, showing just how fun it was with her vain attempts to keep her laughter at bay. Such vain attempts were leaning over the counter bench, phone in hand as she let out loud guffaws of a laugh.

"Thanks for being a help." Violeta snapped, taking the phone back.

"Oh, come on. Just text him back." Tomei said, passing the phone back to her. Violeta went over to the couch, bringing her feet up onto the couch. "Don't stare at it like it's some mythical object you're trying to figure out."

"I can't." Tomei raised an eyebrow. "I mean, no. Don't look at me like that. I just- we said we'd only text if there was anything to update on the supernatural." Her niece explained.

"Wait, when did this happen?" Tomei asked, not recalling knowing about this latest development.

"Just before. He came to Kenny's and we sat and, uh, talked." Violeta said. Tomei bit her lip to keep the wide smile from coming on. Violeta was an open book that tried so hard to remain closed. She never explicitly showed any of the usual signs of interest in Stiles... other than the fact that she occasionally spoke about him.

And Violeta never spoke about anyone at school.

So seeing her now, fumbling with the string of her hoodie, refusing to meet Tomei's eyes as she spoke about seeing - and interacting - with Stiles at Kenny's... well, it was adorable. And it made her want to smile.

-

"So can I see you phone? Mine's in the car."

Violeta remained stoic as could be when she pulled out her phone and held it out to him. Stiles looked awkward, a lot less awkward than Violeta, yet still she could tell he was nervous when he put his number into her phone. Violeta knew that having her number was something people would kill for. Yet, here she was, openly giving it to a teenage boy who made her not want to punch herself in the face.

Stiles Stilinksi.

She was giving her number to Stiles Stilinksi, the boy who broke a vending machine over some peanut butter cups.

"Okay done. I should have your number."

Violeta nodded and Stiles passed her phone back. She dug her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. Stiles just put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. They stared at each other.

"So..."

"Uh..."

-

"Wait." Tomei said, frowning as Violeta finished explaining what had happened. "So that meant he saved his number as Batman?"

Violeta refused to meet her eyes nor say anything.

Tomei began squealing. She propelled herself over the back of the couch with her hands, joining her niece on the sofa. Violeta raised an eyebrow at that but Tomei ignored her, shaking her with that excitement that could only ever come from one prospect: a boy.

"Can you please stop shrieking and tell me what am I supposed to do?!" Violeta snapped, not liking made to feel a fool and have people laugh at her. Especially since this was to do with boys — something most teenage girls seemed to have a lot experience with.

"Text him back!" Tomei said like it was the most obvious thing. "I don't think Stiles just wants to keep you and him as purely business, if you know what I mean." Tomei wiggled her eyebrows and Violeta scoffed, standing up and moving away from her. "Oh, be serious Vi. If he would, would he text you a hey?"