Skinny Love

Prologue

  "Make it stop!" I cried out, tears streaming down my face. "I can't breathe."

After laughing at my misery, my brother took pity on me as his best friend sat on my back. It was their wake up call for me at this ungodly hour of the early morning on a Saturday. Scott, my brother- well, my adoptive brother, grinned at my pink-faced glory as glared at them both. Scott finally conceded and tried to push our best friend off me with puppy eyes that shined in mirth. "Come on, Stiles. You heard the drama queen."

"You better bet your sorry ass that I'm a queen." I said with laughter still lingering in my voice. "Gravity, increasing. Slowly, suffocating."

"Hey! Are you calling me fat?" Stiles grasped his chest in mock offense as he peered down on me.

"Of course not, Batman." I said sarcastically, eyes nearly going back into my skull. "Why would I ever call you fat while you sit on my poor soul?"

"I'm glad that at least someone understood." A grin overtook his face before Scott finally got the great buffoon off of me.

I flipped on to my back and with an outstretched hand to the sky, I gasped out, "Dearly beloved air, oh, how I've missed you so."

The boys laughed and shook their heads at me in all of my dramaticness.

I loved being with these two. They never failed to make me feel like I mattered, make me smile, make me feel like I was home. Scott... he's my brother. A part of my chosen family. His dorky ass was there being an anchor to reality for me when I felt myself spiralling down a dangerous path. His dark brown puppy dog eyes and his crooked jaw, his curly hair, all of him; he was family. He was there for the good, the bad, all of it. He was there even when it hurt. So, yeah, he's my family and I don't want to know where I'd be without him in my life. He's brought me a new hope for a better life. He introduced me to him.

Mieczyslaw "Stiles" Stilinski. How does one describe the car crash named Stiles? He's got whiskey coloured eyes that always seem to hold the shadows of pain and loss, yet they still shine in kindness or they're hidden behind curtains of sarcasm. His dark hair is buzzed as a tribute to his mom, of whom had died years ago to frontotemporal dementia, because it was his way of feeling close to her. His lanky build despite being on the lacrosse team for our school. He's witty, always quick to respond even without thinking things through. And please don't get me started on his horribly thought-out plans. I've known him for years now, originally through Scott. The thing is, I love him and he doesn't know it. After all, he's got his eyes on someone else. So, I shoved my feelings aside as much as I could because I would rather have what I can as friends versus not being a part of his life at all. His happiness would be worth it.

I felt a poke in my side and turned my head to glare at the turd who dared interrupt my inner monologue. It was Scott giving me wiggly eyebrows, a knowing glint in his eyes. I couldn't stop the hard roll of my eyes at him. Scott is practically my biggest confidant, so he knows all about how I feel for Stiles. And while I am grateful that I could talk to him about it, I hate that he relentlessly teases me about it and tries to get us together. I've tried telling him that Stiles doesn't see me that way. That Stiles has had a crush on Lydia Martin since third grade. The pompuss ass just rolls his eyes at me and mutters something about being blind. Whatever that means...

"What's got you thinking so hard, Diabla?" Scott inquired.

"First off, I'll have you know, I resent that name." I shot back. "Secondly, I'm trying to think of what I want before our last two nights of summer vacation are up. Chinese or Taco Soup?"