Honestly, Stiles had no idea what was going on. Admittedly that was pretty much his state of being ever since Scott had gotten bitten, because while he did his level best to be the person who knew what the fuck was up, he had pretty much been flying by the seat of his pants the whole time. It was a state of affairs that had only gotten worse since Isabel rolled into town, with her bitchy comments and her pretty eyes and her....ok so maybe Stiles had been crushing hard from the moment she walked into the classroom. He couldn't really explain it, there was just something about her that had drawn him, and sure he'd read enough awful supernatural romance novels (for research, he swears) to know that was either very, very bad or very, very good, and honestly he wasn't sure which. So of course he'd followed her around and she'd been drawn into their wolf-related shenanigans just the same as any other newcomer was, and he'd gotten...not less confused, never less confused, because why would the fates allow him such a simple thing as understanding?
There had been the kiss, it had made him see stars and left him wondering and it had been brilliant, honestly, but now he had no idea where they stood because she seemed to change her mind every five minutes. Like today, there she was, pulling up to him completely apropos of nothing, all 'get in loser we're going shopping' (of course he's seen that movie, everyone's seen that movie), looking as beautiful as ever and hadn't she been sniping at him this morning for being such a loser?
He sighs resignedly, locks his jeep and climbs into the driver's side without much protest, there's not really any point in protesting anything that happens to him these days, he mostly just has to get on with it and satisfy his complaining desires with snarky comments.
"Is there some kind of fashion emergency we have to get to?" he asks archly
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-07-12 11:36 am (UTC)Honestly, Stiles had no idea what was going on. Admittedly that was pretty much his state of being ever since Scott had gotten bitten, because while he did his level best to be the person who knew what the fuck was up, he had pretty much been flying by the seat of his pants the whole time. It was a state of affairs that had only gotten worse since Isabel rolled into town, with her bitchy comments and her pretty eyes and her....ok so maybe Stiles had been crushing hard from the moment she walked into the classroom. He couldn't really explain it, there was just something about her that had drawn him, and sure he'd read enough awful supernatural romance novels (for research, he swears) to know that was either very, very bad or very, very good, and honestly he wasn't sure which. So of course he'd followed her around and she'd been drawn into their wolf-related shenanigans just the same as any other newcomer was, and he'd gotten...not less confused, never less confused, because why would the fates allow him such a simple thing as understanding?
There had been the kiss, it had made him see stars and left him wondering and it had been brilliant, honestly, but now he had no idea where they stood because she seemed to change her mind every five minutes. Like today, there she was, pulling up to him completely apropos of nothing, all 'get in loser we're going shopping' (of course he's seen that movie, everyone's seen that movie), looking as beautiful as ever and hadn't she been sniping at him this morning for being such a loser?
He sighs resignedly, locks his jeep and climbs into the driver's side without much protest, there's not really any point in protesting anything that happens to him these days, he mostly just has to get on with it and satisfy his complaining desires with snarky comments.
"Is there some kind of fashion emergency we have to get to?" he asks archly