amateur detective ━━ stiles stilinski¹

xxvii; the other banshee

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

STILES WAS PASSED OUT ON THE COUCH IN SCOTT'S LIVING ROOM. Last night, when they couldn't find Meredith, Juliette payed her father a visit. Not an ounce in her wanted to go see her father after the night he started screaming at her, but Sheriff Stilinski managed to talk her into it. So she got Isaac, who she finally reunited with last night, to drive her there, walked in on him eating dinner by the table and told him she was moving out. So now, you could say, Juliette was practically homeless. And the only apartment complex in town is owned by Derek Hale, but finding a place to live is a problem for another day.

She sat on the couch opposite to where Stiles slept. She tested the foxfire in her blood, wanting it to appear, but she knew it doesn't spark unless shes in the process of amplifying someone's power through physical contact. Everything Peter Hale told her about her powers came rushing back to her. He showed her an image of her reaching her full potential, power level on high, and tempted her. Juliette has never been close to power hungry until that brief moment, but she realised that was the effect Peter Hale had on people, and refused to be influenced by him again.

Stiles woke and tumbled off the couch abruptly, losing his balance. His breath was short and heavy, his vision unfocused. "Stiles," Juliette spoke softly, holding his shoulders steady. "Are you alright?"

"What happened? How long was I out?"

Juliette turned to her right, glancing at the look. "Just a couple of hours. You should sit down."

"Where's my dad?" He asked, not taking a moment to calm his breathing.

"Eichen House." Juliette replied, staring at him worriedly. "He's questioning everyone, looking for Meredith. They say she escaped last night after we called. I promised him i'd stay here with you."

Stiles' hands started shaking, so he shoved them into his pockets hoping she hadn't noticed, but she already did. "Okay, what about the others?"

"Isaac, Allison, the twins, they're all looking for Lydia. Scott is upstairs."

"I'm starting to feel like we're waiting for a ransom call." Stiles turned around, grabbing his jacket from the couch and putting it on, still shivering. "I don't know why, I just can't seem to get warm."

Juliette moved him to the couch, pulling on his elbow until he released his hands from his pockets. "Let me help." She cupped her warm hands over his ice cold hands, and started pressing it into his hoping it would add some warmth. When she looked up, he was looking at her with the kindest eyes. She heard of people having butterflies in their stomachs— that flapping, melting feeling. But when she looks at him, she feels the butterflies all over her body, fluttering and sending chills down her spine.