31|i don't know

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Wiping away the dried blood with a wet cloth, I had met his eyes in the mirror only. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I was just standing there, when this ear-piercing noise started up. I covered my ears, but that didn't do much."

Stiles examined me, taking in the blood on my pants and shirt.
"It was Lydia, wasn't it?"

"I don't know."

"It had to be," He insisted. "Ever since the lacrosse field with Peter and her going missing, she's been different. Don't you think?"

"I don't know."

He turned around and continued to babble on about Lydia, not even bothering to ask if I was okay.

I removed my jacket and grabbed the hem of my shirt before looking over to Stiles. "You don't mind if I take this off do you? I want to wipe all the blood off and it ran down my shirt."

"Wh- what? Uh, yeah, no, of course not." His eyes went wide quickly, putting his hands up. "Not - uh - not that I want to see you shirtless or anything, I just don't want you to have to leave the blood on you."

Chuckling, I shook my head and pulled my shirt off. Stiles turned around awkwardly, as he continued to spout off more theories about what could have happened. I just went on removing all the blood.

Stiles looked over at me every now and then, and I had to try my hardest not to blush when he did so. I noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Your ears, they started bleeding when Lydia screamed?"

Back to Lydia.
"That was the only screeching noise anyone heard, so I'm going to say 'yes'."

"That's really weird," he said. "I wonder why it didn't happen to the rest of us. I hope she's okay."

I know my reaction was immature, but that was the last straw. I was right in front of him with blood on me, and he was wondering if a girl on the other side of town was okay. He hasn't even bothered to ask me yet.

"Okay, you know what? I'm done," I huffed.

Stiles stepped back away from the door frame he was previously leaning against, "Wh-what?"

Dropping the cloth in the sink, I turned to face him. "I am literally right in front of you, cleaning off my own blood and you're wondering if Lydia's okay, when as far as I've heard, she hasn't even got a scratch on her," I growled.
My anger had taken hold by that point, and I had begun to shout. "I don't want to keep hearing about how you're so worried about her and not even bothering to ask if I'm okay!"

"Riley-"

"No," I cut him off before he could even finish saying my name. "No, if you're so worried about her, then go. Okay, get in your Jeep and go. And while you're at it, ask your girlfriend what the hell she did to me."

I didn't let him reply, just stepped away from the sink and slammed the bathroom door in his face.

Spinning the lock on the door, I spun around and slid down the surface. Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs.

"Riley," Stiles said softly, rapping his knuckles gently against the wood of the door. "Riley, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot, I know that. It's just . . ."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I was afraid if I opened the door and saw his face, I would just forgive him immediately.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 ▷ Stiles Stilinski¹Where stories live. Discover now