[BOOK THREE]
Sierra Page struggled with moving on. The events from earlier that winter were permanently engraved in her head and with the loss of Allison, she knew she wasn't the same girl she used to be. But that was okay. Because she still had Sti...
That thought, that phrase brokenly stuck on a loop in Stiles's mind.
His brown eyes stared aimlessly at the ceiling, his hand behind his head.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The left side of the bed felt empty without Sierra beside him, and it was because of this, Stiles knew he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. He needed her, and she was right next door. He could easily sneak out of his house and climb through her window like he had done countless times before.
But he didn't. Because he promised to give her space. Time to think for herself and time to talk with Malia.
His mind still buzzed from the stressful day he had experienced, unable to believe how normal it began.
Just that morning, he had woken up to her lips kissing his nose and her signature giggle floating through his ears. "Good morning," he remembered her greeting him cheerfully as he opened his eyes. She looked breathtaking despite her just waking up, but then again to Stiles she always looked beautiful.
He hadn't wanted to climb out of bed. He had leaned his head up to give her a quick kiss before dramatically scooping her back into his arms and holding her tight against his chest.
Stiles couldn't believe how one day could change everything he ever knew. He told her that he loved her, and for the first time she didn't say it back.
His fingers fiddled with the ring around his neck as he thought, Was there any way she was thinking of him too?
*^*^*^*
Raphael saved Stiles.
When Scott found out, he told Stiles he had to be mistaken. Yeah, his father was an FBI agent, but he wasn't a hero. Though, Stiles revealed the entire story to Scott without hesitation. If Raphael hadn't been there, the Chemist would've killed him.
That is why Scott stood against the front desk of the police station, despite it being past midnight. His ears tuned in to the sound of his dad doing the paperwork from the incident, speaking into a recorder. "Having heard the perpetrator's threat and countdown, I made visual confirmation of the barrel of the weapon pressed to the potential victim's head," Raphael stated officially. "Determining the danger to be imminent, I felt no choice but to respond with the use of deadly force."
Scott straightened his back as Raphael exited the office a few moments later, forcing a small smile on his face. "Thanks for waiting, I know it's late," Raphael told him gratefully.
"It's okay," Scott brushed it off, walking over to him. "It's not like we'll be going to school tomorrow anyway."
Raphael then picked up his jacket and informed his son that he now, unfortunately, had to return to San Francisco that night. "I'll need to do a review at the field office," he explained. "But I'll be back as soon as I can." Raphael hesitated, ashamed by his next words. "I might have to miss the first game of the season."
