Control • Stiles Stilinski [2]

3B: Intro

At the Stilinski residence, Stiles lays asleep in bed. He tosses and turns in his sleep, eyebrows furrowed as the sweet beads across his forehead. His hand reaches into the sheets and clutches in his grasp as he gasps softly in his sleep.

"No, no, no, no, no..." Stiles mumbles, words drifting off soundlessly. "Don't let them in." He sleep talks, body beginning to tremble. "Don't let them in. No, don't let them in." He tosses his head back and forth as his body stiffens.

Feeling light in his eyes, Stiles snaps awake with a gasp. He takes split second to realise he doesn't recognise his surroundings and slams his hands forward - met with a metal clang. He freezes in place as he takes a shaky breath - noticing slats in front of his face where the light was shining through.

He moves his hands around his dark surroundings. Realising he is stuck in a locker; he slams against the door again, panic building as it begins to realise he is trapped. Stiles repeatedly slams his palms against the door, desperation building. Suddenly, after one last slam - he forces the locker door open and stumbles out into the dark changing room of the lacrosse team.

He looks around, lost. He spots himself in a mirror, seeing he is still in his pyjamas. He takes a deep breath before heading for the door and finding himself in the dark hallways of the school. He turns down the familiar hallway and pauses in place as he spots a door left ajar.

Slowly, he heads toward it - stepping into the room with pure disbelief as he takes in the sight of the Nemeton right in the middle of the classroom. He cautiously steps toward it, before reaching out his hand to touch it. Just as his hand goes to touch the stump, his hand becomes entrapped in vines, forcing him down to the Nemeton.

Stiles gasps awake, body clammy with sweat as he sits up in bed panting.

"You okay?" A worried female voice softly calls from beside him. Stiles remains frozen in place, until he feels a familiar touch on his back, snaking around to his arm. It's a warm and comforting touch that he could recognise easily. "Stiles?" Isabel asks, concern dripping from her voice.

Stiles notices out of the corner of his eye that the red-head girl rises from her position in the bed and now sits next to him, her hair is messy from how she had slept on it and her eyes were still half shut - adjusting to the sudden wake up. Stiles can feel his heart begin to calm, his breathing returning back to some-what normal.

"Yeah, I was just dreaming." Stiles breathes out. "It was weird. It was like a dream within a dream." He confides, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to settle his racing mind.

"A nightmare?" Isabel asks, fingers squeezing his arm slightly in a reassuring way.

Stiles gives a small nod, reaching his hand over to place on top of hers and grasping it. "Yeah." Stiles sighs, taking a deep breath as Isabel rubs his arm comfortingly.

Stiles relishes the moment, before his heart seems to skip a beat as his mind finally catches up with the situation. He frowns, slowly turning his head to take in the sight of the girl. Isabel catches his eye, giving a smile and moving her face toward his. Stiles watches her confused, before feeling her lips on his and freezes. His mind goes blank again as she returns her lips, this time Stiles meeting her in the middle and returning it.

Isabel's hands reach up slowly, one arm over his shoulder and the other reaching for his hair. Stiles uses the moment to deepen the kiss, his own hands drifting down her body to her waist and pulling her closer. Isabel rises up slightly, lifting a leg and straddling over Stiles' lap.

As their lips separate for a moment Stiles opens his eyes, watching as Isabel begins to lift the bottom of her pyjama top - revealing her skin underneath. He takes a deep breath before pausing again, grabbing her hands softly and making her stop.