Stiles wasn't really sure what to do.
He looked away over his desk, checking his computer, but no, Scott wasn't online yet.
He had to make a decision.
His gaze returned to the brown cartoon box set on his bedroom floor, with a stamp from New York and his address written in a handwriting unknown to Stiles. Still, he knew whose it was.
He shifted uncontrollably on his bed, scratching his nape, his nose, his right knee.
He blinked.
The box was still there.
He literally flew off his bed and crouched down on he floor, tearing the box apart in a matter of three seconds.
His jaw fell open as he took a look at the contents of the box.
He tumbled backwards on his ass and reached for the inside of the package.
His hands lifted the perfectly folded red hoodie and unfolded it, bringing it close to his body.
A note fell from it.
For my personal little red riding hood.
Derek
ps : don't let it suffer the same fate as your old one. It cost me 20 dollars. Oh, and I'll definitely keep the plush.
Stiles couldn't help the big, happy smile that stretched his lips. He brought the hoodie close to his nose and inhaled deeply the distinct scent of his Sourwolf.
God, he couldn't wait until Derek came back.