Fragile • Stiles Stilinski [One]

Would you like some wolfsbane with your punch?

Chapter Thirty One

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Music was thumping throughout our entire house from the front yard all the way to the back, drinks were being sloshed everywhere, dirty dancing had taken over everybody, and the alcohol was finally setting into all of our blood streams. This was how our parties were supposed to be.

My arms were stretched behind me onto Stiles' neck, as our bodies moved against each other. We had never danced like this, but our intake of alcohol made for a good excuse. Scott was off standing next to the punch table talking to Lydia, while Allison pushed her way through the crowd towards the house. I turned around to where I was now facing my boyfriend head on, placing my lips just close enough to his where I could feel his warm breath.

"I want you so bad, Autumn..."

I bit my lip as my eyes shifted down to his, "Oh, yeah?"

He nodded slowly, attacking my lips with his without hesitation.

I pulled away, "Someone's a little drunk on liquid courage now, isn't he?" I smirked.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, his beautiful hazel eyes staring right into mine.

I went to step closer to him but ended up stumbling over my own feet, "Okay, I think I may have had a little too much punch..." I said laughing.

Stiles looked around, holding me by my waist. "I think we all have." He said with a chuckle.

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(Allison's POV)

I wandered into the house, attempting to get through the massive crowd so I could use the bathroom. As I finally made my way past the couple making out at the bottom of the stairs, I could hear a familiar voice getting closer to where I was on the second floor.

"Allison! Wait up!" annoyance flushed over me when I realized the voice calling behind me was Matts.

I flung my body around, grabbing onto the balcony for support. "I have nothing to say to you." I began my walk down the hallway, when footsteps followed closely behind.

"Please, let me explain. Give me three minutes." he begged.

I looked to my left to find one of the spare bedrooms. I let out a sigh, before pointing my finger in the room letting him walk in first.

"You get two minutes. Nothing more." His hand went for the doorknob, "The door stays open. You wanna talk, then do it on my terms. And you better hurry cause your two minutes is dwindling down fast."

"Okay, um... right. So I know I took some pictures of you–pictures that I should have told you about. But is it really that bad that I think you're beautiful? And is it so bad that I think you should be the subject of the perfect photograph?"

"Matt–Some of the pictures you have...I–I don't even know how you took them."

"Telephoto lens," He replied quickly, "I mean, come on Allison, photographers call them candids."

I walked closer to the door, "Yeah? Well Police officers call it stalking."

Matt was taken back by my words, "Stalking? So I'm a stalker now? That's it?" I could tell he was growing irritated as he moved closer to me, "You think my bedroom is wallpapered with your photos? You think I'm the guy that's gonna say something like 'If I can't have her, no one can.' Well, you know what? Get over yourself, because there's another pretty girl walking through the room every five minutes!" I was listening, until my attention was caught by a bow being dragged past the door.