It's Just a Pull

Epilogue

"I don't think your dad likes me that much," Stiles tells you as you help him lug his suitcases to his dorm room.

"He's protective. Now that he knows we're... together, he gets to pretend that I'm a normal daughter and you're my normal boyfriend."

"We're not normal, though."

"Well... He knows that. But, let him play the part for a little bit?"

Stiles pauses at his door, fumbling with the keys as he looks at you. "I guess," he sighs, unlocking the door.

"Now, you've got me for three hours, so put me to work," you tell him, rolling a suitcase into the room and looking at the space that will be your boyfriend's home for the next few years.

"We should have just gotten an apartment," Stiles muses, looking at the tiny, twin-size bed and the shitty wooden desk/ anti-suicide chair combo that made up his side of the room.

"We both need a normal college experience. After Beacon Hills... Let's just be normal for a little bit," you tell him, fumbling around in the hamper for the sheets and mattress topper. "And moving in with your high school girlfriend right out of high school is asking for trouble."

"You don't trust me?"

"It's the universe I don't trust. And, let's face it, my dad would hate you even more if we lived together. Also, succubi? Hell of a sex drive when in constant contact with their soulmates, and neither one of us is ready for the potential ramifications of that."

"Point taken. He did show me his gun when you were in the bathroom."

"You've seen a gun before," you reply, deadpan. "Besides," you continue, straining to reach the far corner of the mattress. "I'm literally five minutes away. Georgetown isn't that far."

"I'd just feel better if you were closer," Stiles says, reaching past you to shimmy the sheet over the corner of the mattress.

"Stiles, this isn't Beacon Hills. We're going to be fine here." Two of the four corners pop up, and you groan. "No werewolves, no demons, just you and me."

"There weren't demons in Beacon Hills," Stiles mutters, and you just stare at him for a moment. "There were demons in Beacon Hills?"

"I would have told you guys if they were dangerous?" you offer.

"You'll tell me if my roommate is a demon, right?"

"Stiles, your roommate isn't going to be a demon. I am going to be the only supernatural thing in your life for the foreseeable future. Now, smile," you hold your phone up to take a picture of the two of you, firing it off into the group chat.

"What was that for?"

"Lydia and Scott. They wanted physical evidence that you're no longer in Beacon Hills."

"That was a really bad picture," Stiles complains as you retuck the corners of his sheets.

"It was fine. Go hang the shower curtain," you order, opening dresser drawers and filling them with your soulmate's things, knowing full well it'll be a disorganized mess by the end of the week. "What time was your roommate moving in?"

"He said around three, I think?" Stiles calls from the bathroom. "(Y/n), the curtain is too wide."

"Fold the ends in," you reply, sighing into a collection of graphic tees.

"I don't- What?"

You sigh again, leaving the suitcase open on the floor as you make your way over to your soulmate. He's holding the curtain in his hands, the plastic crinkling as he looks from the loops on the rung to the holes in the curtain in confusion.

"Babe, put the loop through two of the holes."

"Oh."

"See, now I'm worried a little bit," you say, stepping out of the bathroom and back to the suitcase. "Does any of this need to hang?"

"I think there are some button-ups?" Stiles calls back, now audibly struggling with the shower curtain.

You dig through the suitcase for a second. "Okay, new question: did you pack hangers?"

"I needed to?" Stiles pokes his head out of the bathroom to look at you, perplexed.

"Now I'm definitely worried," you groan. "How have you survived this long?"

"Scott's mom," Stiles says, half-joking.

"God bless that woman."

"You're here to take care of me now?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, you're an adult, so no. I love you, but I'm not here to parent you, okay?"

There's silence for a beat, then: "You love me?"

You give him a look, pulling the soulmate bond out of the air between the two of you and shaking it a tad. "You know that, Stiles."

"No, I know," he says, taking his own end of the bond within his hands, something you didn't know was possible but is happening, so it must be. "I just... I love you, too."