It was a dark night. The moon hung low in the sky while the stars had disappeared under the yellow glow of streetlights. Although it was late September, the weather was nice and the nights only a little colder than the days. This, of course, prompted many to sleep with their bedroom window open.
Stiles however, had been keeping his bedroom window open for a while now. Not because he was too warm, he had a fan for that. No, Stiles slept with his bedroom window wide open because he was waiting. For Malia. For the past six weeks, she would appear as if from nowhere. When he was sleeping, at least five times a week, it was guaranteed that at some point during the night, the duvet would rustle and the bed would dip. And she'd be there. Settled in behind him with her arms wrapped around his body.
Not that he minded, of course. What normal guy wouldn't want a pretty girl like Malia sneaking into their room every night. What bothered him was the lying. Neither he nor Scott had told Malia about Peter. It made him feel guilty and that guilt made Malia's late night visits somewhat awkward.
Tonight was no different.
It was a little past midnight when it happened. Stiles hadn't quite fallen asleep yet and so he heard her near silent footsteps as she entered the room. He had to admit, he was surprised by how quiet she was. Then again, she had spent most of her life trapped as a coyote, living in the woods and trying to survive. Silence was probably a great skill of her's. The bed dipped slightly and then the covers were pulled back. He felt the brush of cold air on his skin before her warm body replaced the sensation. She was fully dressed, as always, ready to go home in the morning in order not to alert her father as to her disappearances throughout the night. Slowly, her arm slipped across his body, cold as ice. In his groggy state, Stiles reached up and took hold of her hand, attempting to warm her.
"Did I wake you?" her hushed voice asked.
She seemed genuinely curious and apologetic. As if she were worried that she had disturbed him. It was something he had noticed lately. Malia seemed eager to please him. Again, not that he minded the slightly obsessive loyalty but still, it encouraged his guilt.
"No." he whispered back.
"Then why are you awake?" she asked, seeming confused.
"Why are you so early?" he retaliated.
Malia fell silent after that. For a good ten minutes, they lay in complete silence, her arms still wrapped around him and her hands trapped between his. He hated how cold she always was. It reminded him that he had disturbed her life and torn her away from everything she knew. Not to mention it had to be seriously unhealthy.
With a restless sigh, Stiles turned onto his opposite side, facing Malia. Her eyes opened immediately and he could tell she had been on the brink of sleep. Not that she seemed to care.
"Turn around." Stiles spoke softly.
"Why?" Malia asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
"You're cold, just trust me."
Slowly and reluctantly, her body turned until the pair were no long facing each other. With a triumphant smile, Stiles slipped one arm beneath her body and the other across her waist, grasping her tiny hands in his.
"Better?" he asked.
Her breathing had slowed once again. Her body had not only physically, but had also visibly relaxed. She was pressing into him as if trying to steal his body heat. Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes casting dark shadows on her cheeks. Her mouth was relaxed, lips full and slightly pursed. He didn't need an answer to know that he was right but being Malia, she gave him one any way.
"Much."