XI. The Burgundy

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"Lydia," the way my name rolled off his tongue made me nervous, but I didn't know why.

I turned around to find him shirtless next to one of his drawers.

"I sort of forgot to do the laundry, so this white shirt's all I've got...sorry,"

I grinned slowly. "That's okay," Once he threw it to me, I sauntered off to the bathroom to change out of my red t-shirt.

When I walked back into Stiles's room, he was dressed in a white tee like the one he lent me, with a burgundy plaid shirt over it.
It was the night before we found our parents-Ms. McCall and Sheriff Stilinski were missing...my mom was gone again doing who knows what, so I would've been alone; And so would've Stiles. He thought that maybe it would be better if we were in one place, together, because something was always after us. So he asked if I wanted to stay with him.

He sent me a strained smile, then turned out the lights. Even in the dark I could make out his shape. He was taking his place on the floor, and I was on his bed.

"Ladies first," He told me when he walked in the room gesturing to his bed, which at the time was neatly made.
It had been an hour that I was staring blankly at the ceiling, and I knew he was still awake.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"
I heard him turn on his side.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but, I know your back hurts. Come up here," I whispered.

He laid down next to me, his head on the pillow next to mine. His shoulders tensed, he closed his eyes and tucked his hands under his head. Beads of sweat were gathered at his forehead, and his cheeks were pale. I knew he was torn up about his dad, and Melissa.

"We'll find them, okay? We always do." After I told him this, a chilling breeze from the window blew onto my back.
His eyes snapped open. He probably felt the bed shake when I shivered.

"Sorry..."

"No, it's okay...Do you want me to shut the window?" He started to sit up.

"I'm fine...You should keep the fresh air. You're sweating."

"Oh, I am?" He let out a laugh, before shrugging off his flannel. "You take this. I don't want you to get sick under my roof. Plus, you need it more than I do."

"Thanks." I shyly took the flannel from him, and slipped it on over the white shirt.

When he placed his hand on my shoulder and fell asleep, that was all I needed to know that I was safe.
He didn't need to have different colored eyes or be the star lacrosse player to be a hero.

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