I'll Always Know It's From You (A Sterek Novella)

Chapter 14

Stiles's POV

Scott and I pull into the driveway, the late afternoon sun leaking through from behind my house, tinting everything twilight, effecting the snow on the ground to sparkle. Pulling in, tires crunching beneath us on gravel, I park behind my Dad's patrol car, Scott's motorcycle off safely to the side.

Bags crinkling together, Scott gathers his things, his seat belt sliding off his torso as Roscoe is put into park.

I exit the Jeep with Scott, my own bags crinkling together. "Want to stay for dinner man?"

Scott looks up at me, my words bringing him back from his thoughts. "Uh, I wish I could, but I can't. I planned on bringing my mom dinner at the hospital before I went to work. Deaton says we have a lot of work to do. Emergencies." Scott shrugs.

I shrug back. "Alright, just thought I would throw the invitation out there for you!"

Scott smiles. "I know. Thanks! And thank you so much for coming with me today to go shopping, I totally would've chickened out if it hadn't been for you."

"I guess in that case you could call me your anchor."

"Or my best friend."

I smirk. "I guess that works just as well."

Walking over to the green motorcycle, Scott laughs. "I figured."

"Guess I'll see you around?" I follow Scott, and I step to the side of the bike.

"Yeah dude, totally. I'll text you when I get out of work, or if I get a chance during work."

"Cool. Got enough room to get out, you think?"

Turning his head, the Alpha surveys the driveway, his attention quickly returning to me. "Yeah, should have enough."

Putting on his helmet, Scott revs the bike, kicking the kick stand, his feet now keeping it balance on either side.

"Thanks again Stiles."

"Anytime. Thanks again for inviting me."

Shooting a quick nod, Scott kicks off, his feet going to the sides of the bike, the little vehicle going in a 360 degree doughnut, pulling Scott and his treasures out of the driveway and down the road, out of sight.

Shivering and clutching my own bags, I make my way to the warmth of my home, knowing Dad and Derek will be there.

Hopefully with some hot chocolate.

With marshmallows.

Marshmallows are the best.

Mmmm.

Entering the house, I'm greeted with a breath of hot heat air, my lungs and body filling back up with warmth.

Keeping my bags close to me, knowing Derek will be greedy and try to find out what I got for him, I cautiously make my way towards the kitchen, where the life seems to be centered in.

Two faces look up and smile at me, making my body warm up quicker.

"What, did you two not leave?"

Dad snorts. "Nah, we're just better shoppers than you and Scott."

"Well that went form 0 to 100 in less than 3 seconds." I fake a pout, scrunching up my features and holding my hands to my mouth, making the bags crinkle together.

Derek shoots up from his seat, moving to maul me. "What's in the bag Freckle-Face?"

I shoot daggers at the nickname, and the smirk I receive in turn notifies me that he purposely said what he said.

I turn the bag away from his sight, crossing my arms behind my back. "No access to this bag for you, Sourwolf."

Derek turns, making sniffling noises. "I just wanted to know or maybe a little hint, you didn't have to be so cruel."

I'm taken aback but his behavior. "Cruel?! How was I being cruel? You almost mauled me!"

He turns, tears in his eyes, a slight tremble to his features. "I just wanted to know! And I wasn't going to maul you! Stop making excuses for trying to be mean to me!"

I hear my Dad shout from the kitchen over the slight hum of Christmas music. "Stiles! Stop being mean to Derek, that isn't how you should treat your boyfriend!"

I'm genuinely shocked.

Please tell me he's kidding.

Are they ganging up on me?

I wasn't that mean.

Was I?

Furrowing my brows, I look at him. "Sorry. For being mean, I guess."

Derek shoots up, like nothing ever happened, a grin plastered to his face. "So does that mean I can see what's in the bag?"

What a little shit.

Damn he's good.

I shake my head, moving towards the stairs, walking backwards so I can face Derek and the bag still out of sight. "No!"

Letting out a snarl, Derek pretends to pout again, but only for a second before he's out of my sight as I reach the top of the stairs, booking it to my room before Derek can even think to chase me for the bag.

Shutting the door swiftly, I know I've made it.

Wouldn't want to spoil the Christmas surprise, now would we?

I take the bag to the closet, thinking of a good hiding spot, one that Derek would never think of checking.

Looking through the closet, I find it. A box of memories from my childhood. He would never go thought that. It's the perfect place.

Setting the bag down, I reach for the box, needing to go on my tipey-toes to get to it, and open the lid, judging the room in the box.

On top of the memory tote is one of the last pictures my Mother was ever in. It was a Christmas picture, with the three of us in it, Christmas sweaters adorning our shoulders as we say stop a Santa looking throne, a Christmas tree as the backdrop.

I put the bag with Derek's gift on top of the picture, reseal the box with its lid, and put it back on the top shelf of my messy closet, not thinking twice about the picture.