1. It’s Nice Like This
One's micro expressions can mean the life or death of another, and so this leaves only words to prove unbreakable. Or maybe not.
Winter enters the kitchen looking for something to drink. Something alcoholic. It's been two years since it happened. She doesn't like to think or talk about it so she continued to search through the white cabinets for anything that could take her mind off of it. No luck. This was because she really didn't drink that much, considering she was only 19.
It was a hot night in the summer of Beacon Hills. The AC was barely holding on and Winter had opened all the windows, still, no luck cooling down.
Winter has never gotten used to the heat of California, which made sense considering her name. She doesn't know why or where her name comes from though. Her dad left when she was really little. That didn't affect her much; she doesn't remember much about him anyway.
The heat was really getting to her now. The sun was blaring, trying to get its last highlights in before it set. She took off the green and blue patterned flannel that she had on and wrapped it around her waist over her grey sweatshorts, which she cut and thrifted herself.
Feeling just a little better in her white cropped tank top, she got up onto the counter and peered into the small top cupboard that's over the oven and found Lydia's hidden stache of the expensive stuff. Winter snatched the cheapest bottle that was already opened and put it on the counter next to her feet and climbed off the of it, figuring that Lydia wouldn't notice if she had a glass. Lydia had not been around much this summer, for she had been with Parish for most of it.
Winter grabbed a glass and began pouring herself a drink when she heard a gentle rapping on the door. She set down the bottle and grabbed the glass, taking a sip while simultaneously walking to the door. She swallowed while it slightly burned her throat on the way down and opened her door with the security chain still locked to see who it was because she wasn't suspecting any visitors.
"Uh hey, Scott and I were just about to start a-"
He was cut off as Winter shut the door in his face, without thinking to unlock the security chain. She opened the door back up to see a confused Stiles with his mouth hanging open pointing at the door.
"What was-" he started.
"The chain sorry," Winter explained before he could get the rest of his question out. "Come in um, do you want something to drink or actually what were you saying before, sorry," Winter took another swig and was now very aware of her rambling.
"No, it's okay. I was just gonna ask you if you wanted to watch a movie at me Scott's place. Almost everybody's up there either making popcorn or getting their drink. Also, what are you doing drinking alone? You usually don't drink. Is there some special occasion or something?" Stiles asks deducing what she was doing without her even having to answer.
"You could say something like that, Detective Stilinski," she says sarcastically with a slightly forced smile. She takes another big sip.
"I'm not a detective. At least not yet. No but really why are you drinking, cause you don't seem to be celebrating."
Winter debates on whether or not to tell him what today is. If she were to tell anyone, it would be Stiles. She trusts him. It's just some quality about him; he seems like he would be good with secrets. Not that this was some big secret. Just something she hasn't told anyone. Things like this are hard to talk about.
"Don't you have a movie to watch?" Winter says while moving towards the granite counter top to lean against. She'd downs the rest of her drink and sets her glass on the island behind her.
"Not anymore, what's wrong?" he says with a half concerned, half confused look on his face.
"It's nothing. I'll go watch the movie with you guys if it matters that much."
"No, hey. We aren't leaving until you tell me what's going on Win." He came into the apartment and turned back to look a Win, showing her he wasn't going to leave until she elaborated. He awaited her answer.
I can't tell if he cares or just wants to get in my business.
"Come on, really," Winter says eyeing Stiles, hating the fact that she couldn't figure out what his true intentions were. She's been closed off towards the pack. She never had to open up. There was always a different mystery to solve or friend to save.
Maybe it was Stiles' expression, or maybe the fact that she just wanted to be left alone and this was the fastest way to make him leave, but something in her made her just spill. She closed the door behind her.
"It's been two years. Down to the day," she said shyly, halfway hoping that he would leave after that.
He took a step closer. "Two years since what?" he asked, matching her tone.
Just tell him. They should now why they found me as an omega.
"Umm..." She slid down the side of the cabinet and sat on the floor, where Stiles soon joined her. "Two years since the day that my entire pack was killed by the um bounty hunters..."
"That's why you started going to Beacon Hills," he was beginning to put the pieces together in his mind. "The same hunters that killed Satomi's pack?"
"I guess... I don't like to think about it really so..." she stopped. Neither of them said anything for a while because neither of them knew what to say.
"I actually don't know why I didn't tell you guys that sooner." She chuckled to herself. "I guess I have a habit of keeping that part of my life from you guys."
"Your past?" he asks softly. Stiles turns his head to meet her eyes for a moment. Winter looks at him and ever so slightly nods her head. They both look away and Stiles starts twiddling his fingers. He fills the silence with deep sigh and starts talking.
"I mean, yeah, everybody has certain things they don't like to talk about. Things that haunt them or scare them, especially from their past. Take me for example, I don't like thinking about Donavan. I don't share that with people. I don't like talking about what happened when I went to Eichen House... We all have hidden scars."
Winter was surprised by this, these things he was holding on to secretly. They never really talked about personal things, or had one on one time with each other. They were always doing something or worrying about someone; they never had this extra time until this summer.
"But hey, if you ever do want to talk about things or think through stuff, that's what I'm here for. And considering I've kept everything I know about the supernatural to myself, I would say I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."
Winter laughs with a sudden change in emotion. She went from melancholic to friendly. She liked the idea of spending more time with Stiles. He wasn't so bad to talk to either.
"Yeah I would say that too," she says with a smile slowly appearing across her lips. "Thank you, Stiles."
She put her head on his shoulder, which she thought would be scrawny and uncomfortable, however, to her surprise it was quite nice. He seemed muscular, this you wouldn't guess from his appearance, but it does make sense. He has to be physically fit if he wants to make it into field operations in the FBI. Winter didn't know he started working out though.
It was nice like this. The slight chirping of crickets coming through the open windows and the night breeze slowly trailing in. With each minute that passes by, outside gets darker, cooler. Stiles smelt as though his shirt was just washed, like freshly pressed linen.
It was nice like this. Winter never realized how simply leaning on someone could relieve stress, physically and figuratively. It was different trusting a single person, rather than a pack to have your back. Having Stiles to talk to was new and different. She didn't want it to end.
It was nice like this.
"For what?"
Winter snapped out of her on thoughts to try and remember what she said. She brought her head off his shoulder, slowly as to give her time to remember that she just thanked him, and looked into his deep brown eyes.
"For being here. For talking with me and actually listening," she said with a half smile after she'd remembered what they were saying. She didn't have to tell him anymore. She was already feeling better. It was quite for a moment and an owl could be heard from outside in the distance.
Stiles shifted and moved his arms to draw her in for a hug which Winter accepted and hugged him back. Now this she wouldn't mind getting used to. "Of course Winter."
As she settled into their hug her senses heightened. Was she hearing something? Something from outside maybe? Was it her own heartbeat which she hadn't realized it was beating a little faster than before? No, it was something strong. Something coming from inside the building. She took a deep breath through her noise to try and catch a scent but all she could smell was Stiles while trapped in this hug. It was coming down the metal steps. Down the hall. It slowed down as it neared her door in particular.
"Someone's here," Winter whispered into his chest, but before Stiles could even register what she said, it was too late.
The door's handle twisted and it was now ajar.
Winter enters the kitchen looking for something to drink. Something alcoholic. It's been two years since it happened. She doesn't like to think or talk about it so she continued to search through the white cabinets for anything that could take her mind off of it. No luck. This was because she really didn't drink that much, considering she was only 19.
It was a hot night in the summer of Beacon Hills. The AC was barely holding on and Winter had opened all the windows, still, no luck cooling down.
Winter has never gotten used to the heat of California, which made sense considering her name. She doesn't know why or where her name comes from though. Her dad left when she was really little. That didn't affect her much; she doesn't remember much about him anyway.
The heat was really getting to her now. The sun was blaring, trying to get its last highlights in before it set. She took off the green and blue patterned flannel that she had on and wrapped it around her waist over her grey sweatshorts, which she cut and thrifted herself.
Feeling just a little better in her white cropped tank top, she got up onto the counter and peered into the small top cupboard that's over the oven and found Lydia's hidden stache of the expensive stuff. Winter snatched the cheapest bottle that was already opened and put it on the counter next to her feet and climbed off the of it, figuring that Lydia wouldn't notice if she had a glass. Lydia had not been around much this summer, for she had been with Parish for most of it.
Winter grabbed a glass and began pouring herself a drink when she heard a gentle rapping on the door. She set down the bottle and grabbed the glass, taking a sip while simultaneously walking to the door. She swallowed while it slightly burned her throat on the way down and opened her door with the security chain still locked to see who it was because she wasn't suspecting any visitors.
"Uh hey, Scott and I were just about to start a-"
He was cut off as Winter shut the door in his face, without thinking to unlock the security chain. She opened the door back up to see a confused Stiles with his mouth hanging open pointing at the door.
"What was-" he started.
"The chain sorry," Winter explained before he could get the rest of his question out. "Come in um, do you want something to drink or actually what were you saying before, sorry," Winter took another swig and was now very aware of her rambling.
"No, it's okay. I was just gonna ask you if you wanted to watch a movie at me Scott's place. Almost everybody's up there either making popcorn or getting their drink. Also, what are you doing drinking alone? You usually don't drink. Is there some special occasion or something?" Stiles asks deducing what she was doing without her even having to answer.
"You could say something like that, Detective Stilinski," she says sarcastically with a slightly forced smile. She takes another big sip.
"I'm not a detective. At least not yet. No but really why are you drinking, cause you don't seem to be celebrating."
Winter debates on whether or not to tell him what today is. If she were to tell anyone, it would be Stiles. She trusts him. It's just some quality about him; he seems like he would be good with secrets. Not that this was some big secret. Just something she hasn't told anyone. Things like this are hard to talk about.
"Don't you have a movie to watch?" Winter says while moving towards the granite counter top to lean against. She'd downs the rest of her drink and sets her glass on the island behind her.
"Not anymore, what's wrong?" he says with a half concerned, half confused look on his face.
"It's nothing. I'll go watch the movie with you guys if it matters that much."
"No, hey. We aren't leaving until you tell me what's going on Win." He came into the apartment and turned back to look a Win, showing her he wasn't going to leave until she elaborated. He awaited her answer.
I can't tell if he cares or just wants to get in my business.
"Come on, really," Winter says eyeing Stiles, hating the fact that she couldn't figure out what his true intentions were. She's been closed off towards the pack. She never had to open up. There was always a different mystery to solve or friend to save.
Maybe it was Stiles' expression, or maybe the fact that she just wanted to be left alone and this was the fastest way to make him leave, but something in her made her just spill. She closed the door behind her.
"It's been two years. Down to the day," she said shyly, halfway hoping that he would leave after that.
He took a step closer. "Two years since what?" he asked, matching her tone.
Just tell him. They should now why they found me as an omega.
"Umm..." She slid down the side of the cabinet and sat on the floor, where Stiles soon joined her. "Two years since the day that my entire pack was killed by the um bounty hunters..."
"That's why you started going to Beacon Hills," he was beginning to put the pieces together in his mind. "The same hunters that killed Satomi's pack?"
"I guess... I don't like to think about it really so..." she stopped. Neither of them said anything for a while because neither of them knew what to say.
"I actually don't know why I didn't tell you guys that sooner." She chuckled to herself. "I guess I have a habit of keeping that part of my life from you guys."
"Your past?" he asks softly. Stiles turns his head to meet her eyes for a moment. Winter looks at him and ever so slightly nods her head. They both look away and Stiles starts twiddling his fingers. He fills the silence with deep sigh and starts talking.
"I mean, yeah, everybody has certain things they don't like to talk about. Things that haunt them or scare them, especially from their past. Take me for example, I don't like thinking about Donavan. I don't share that with people. I don't like talking about what happened when I went to Eichen House... We all have hidden scars."
Winter was surprised by this, these things he was holding on to secretly. They never really talked about personal things, or had one on one time with each other. They were always doing something or worrying about someone; they never had this extra time until this summer.
"But hey, if you ever do want to talk about things or think through stuff, that's what I'm here for. And considering I've kept everything I know about the supernatural to myself, I would say I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."
Winter laughs with a sudden change in emotion. She went from melancholic to friendly. She liked the idea of spending more time with Stiles. He wasn't so bad to talk to either.
"Yeah I would say that too," she says with a smile slowly appearing across her lips. "Thank you, Stiles."
She put her head on his shoulder, which she thought would be scrawny and uncomfortable, however, to her surprise it was quite nice. He seemed muscular, this you wouldn't guess from his appearance, but it does make sense. He has to be physically fit if he wants to make it into field operations in the FBI. Winter didn't know he started working out though.
It was nice like this. The slight chirping of crickets coming through the open windows and the night breeze slowly trailing in. With each minute that passes by, outside gets darker, cooler. Stiles smelt as though his shirt was just washed, like freshly pressed linen.
It was nice like this. Winter never realized how simply leaning on someone could relieve stress, physically and figuratively. It was different trusting a single person, rather than a pack to have your back. Having Stiles to talk to was new and different. She didn't want it to end.
It was nice like this.
"For what?"
Winter snapped out of her on thoughts to try and remember what she said. She brought her head off his shoulder, slowly as to give her time to remember that she just thanked him, and looked into his deep brown eyes.
"For being here. For talking with me and actually listening," she said with a half smile after she'd remembered what they were saying. She didn't have to tell him anymore. She was already feeling better. It was quite for a moment and an owl could be heard from outside in the distance.
Stiles shifted and moved his arms to draw her in for a hug which Winter accepted and hugged him back. Now this she wouldn't mind getting used to. "Of course Winter."
As she settled into their hug her senses heightened. Was she hearing something? Something from outside maybe? Was it her own heartbeat which she hadn't realized it was beating a little faster than before? No, it was something strong. Something coming from inside the building. She took a deep breath through her noise to try and catch a scent but all she could smell was Stiles while trapped in this hug. It was coming down the metal steps. Down the hall. It slowed down as it neared her door in particular.
"Someone's here," Winter whispered into his chest, but before Stiles could even register what she said, it was too late.
The door's handle twisted and it was now ajar.
