Playing With Fire ➳ Stiles Stilinski [3]

Falling Apart And The Fox And The Wolf

"Stiles, we should stop," I was giggling uncontrollably.

Our bodies pressed against one another, my hands running everywhere under his shirt, his lips on my neck.

He pressed me against his bed, his lips moving back up to my jaw, and I let out a moan, his hands gripping my wrists.

"Stiles," I chuckled starting to get a little uncomfortable. "Stiles, stop."

He pressed my hands harder against the bed and began forcefully placing his lips against my skin.

"Stop! I said stop it!" I was yelling, but it was like no sound was coming out.

I couldn't even hear myself screaming.

I felt his lips move away from my skin, his eyes meeting mine. But when I got a good glance I realised what I was looking at. More like who.

They weren't the eyes I fell in love with.

"Why the scared look Skyler? You seemed to like it before," his cold voice spoke with his lips against my ear.

I widened my eyes looking at him. But it wasn't him. "You're not him."

"Wrong answer sweetheart," his hands gripped tighter around my wrist, causing me to cry out in pain.

I kicked my legs, pushing him off of me. But he only smirked, standing up. He moved away, his hands behind my back.

When he walked away as if it was meant to happen.

I sat up still feeling his grip around my wrists. But when I looked down, I wasn't on the bed anymore.

I was back there. In Eichen. Forced into the chair, my wrists tied into the restraints. I tugged on them as much as I could, but I was so weak.

His dark shadow made its way towards me, followed by him. His hands behind his back, observing me.

If it's one thing I learnt it's that I never show when I'm scared.

"You're not him," I repeated in a harsher tone. "You're not Stiles,"

"Maybe not," he looked entertaining, squatting down to meet my eye level.

I turned my head away, trying to hide the pain starting to show on my face. Avoiding his harsh stare. 

"But whose fault is that?" He laughed and his hand now pressed against my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

"What?"

"Stiles hated you. You left him and he made sure not to speak to you. But you just had to ruin it for him. See beautiful, when you told him you loved him, he got weak," his tone still amused and angry at the same time. "He let you get to him, and then...he let me in."

"Your sick," I spat and he laughed shaking his head.

"What's that phrase you like to use?" He mused and scanned my face for an answer. "I trust you?"

I felt my body stiffen, and felt my body go numb. But still felt his hand pressed on my jaw.

"Yeah," he chuckled lowly and stood up.

He grabbed my wrist pulling me up to my feet. Making me realisevmy hands weren't forced against the restraints anymore.

His lips were now back on my ears. Forcing me close to him. 

"Well trust me when I say this, your boyfriends gone. And it's all, your, fault."

I shot my eyes open immediately feeling the need to get as much air as I could. I was yelling from the top of my lungs while gasping for air.