When I lost my coyote coat, I was always cold.
Stiles was the first one I told that. Seeing as I attempted to explain to my adoptive father that I was actually a coyote now, he sent me to a nut house, so I decided to keep to myself that I was so cold. All of the time.
Stiles was the first person I told when he found me showering in the boys bathroom at the mental institution.
I felt bad for punching Stiles, which is weird because as a coyote, I learned not to be afraid to hurt anyone who threatens you. I was threatened by Stiles in a way. When I drove in the car with him and his father so I could go see my dad for the first time in eight years, he kept looking back at me. He would glance at me and I would look at him like he was crazy and he would look away. Was he mocking me?
He watched me as his father took me to the front door of my old home. I looked back at him and he smiled, setting something off inside of me. I vaguely remembered feeling that way when a boy teased me when I was seven. I remembered wanting to hug that boy, although he pissed me off. But this was unusual. I was a young coyote, so I never got to experience that feeling again. Also, coyotes love their mates but not the same way humans do.
In Eichen House, when Stiles and I kissed for the first time, his lips were warm. I'd never kissed anyone and I was so cold. I assumed the reason I wanted to kiss him again was because he was so warm but really, I felt like someone had actually placed a magnet in my lips while I was sleeping and Stiles' lips were the refrigerator my mother hung up the drawings of animals I used to make when I was young. It was an insane...desire.
We didn't really do anything. I took off my shirt, besides the fact that I was cold but he never even attempted to take off my pants. I assumed maybe this was because he didn't feel the same way I did.
"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered between kisses.
"For what?" I asked, pushing him off of me.
"I don't have a condom... I-"
"A what?" I asked.
Stiles smiled. "A condom. When people have sex, they can make babies. A condom will make it so you can't make babies. I'm sure you'd be a great mom, but we're awfully young."
"Oh. I guess I missed that part of class."
Stiles chuckled. "We can kiss more if you want to, because I mean of course I want to. I don't want to make you-"
"Stiles," I interrupted him. He stared at me. "I want to kiss you. Please, shut up."
Stiles laughed. It was the first time I had heard him laugh like that. In the time I'd known him, I'd mostly just heard chuckles that were slightly forced. Not because he was uncomfortable or anything, but it was a weird chuckle. Fake. I sensed sadness.
He had every right to be sad. He felt responsible for mostly everything going wrong in the outside world. When I met Scott, I could sense that Scott bared the weight of the world on his shoulders and perhaps Stiles did too.
This thought made me want to kiss him more.
When I got out of Eichen House and transferred to Beacon Hills, I was ridiculously nervous. I had been convinced to join the track team where I found so much relief in running. I felt wild and free again.
After practice one day, I saw Stiles waiting. I wondered if he was waiting for me. He and Scott sometimes hung out with me and Lydia, their other friend would sometimes stare at me in the halls. Now in an intimidating way, but in a longing way. It was weird. I shrugged it off. I sensed sadness around all of them. Especially Lydia and Scott. Around Stiles and Kira, I sensed guilt.
One day after Scott left Stiles and me alone in his room, I turned to Stiles.
"What's wrong?"
Stiles looked at me and then looked at the ground. "You know what guilt feels like, right?"
"...Yes." I looked at the ground too. Guilt was a feeling I felt my entire life as a coyote. An ache.
"I feel that way too."
"Stiles, it was the nogitsune. It wasn't you."
"Scott and Lydia... Lydia lost her best friend. Scott lost his first love. I feel responsible." Stiles voice cracked and his lips were trembling. I thought he was cold until I realized he was about to cry.
I began to comfort him in the only way I knew. I shoved my head into the crook of his neck, using my hand to rub his chest and my other hand to rub the back of his neck. I nuzzled my head into his neck.
Stiles stopped crying and began to chuckle. "Malia..."
"What?" I let go of him.
"Thank you."
A feeling flushed into me and I smiled at him. For the first time in weeks, I felt warm again.