Author's note: Hello! Another week, another chapter. I felt like we deserved some Stalia romance, so here it is.

Hope you guys are liking the fic, and I'm sorry for my english.

It's late, I have class tomorrow morning, so I'll leave you to the chapter.

4. Arrangement

She was supposed to move. She was supposed to pack her things, leave the Tate's house and head to Derek's. Stiles would take her.

It was what she was supposed to do.

Earlier that week, Mr. Tate had sat down with his older daughter – the only family he had left – and told her she could go. He told her that he loved her very much, and he'd miss her, but the that they always knew that sooner or later Malia would have to go, follow her own roots, figure out her own self.

She didn't want to, at first. She thought: this is my home. And that's what she told her father. HE was her father. Peter had nothing to do with her. But they both knew that the Tate's place wasn't her home anymore. It hasn't been since the accident, since she couldn't turn back human and decided it was better to be a coyote anyway.

But Mr. Tate didn't know that Derek's place (the room reserved for her had two beds, one of them was Cora's, who could come back any moment. The room, full of her cousin's stuff) did not feel like home to her as well.

Malia had no home. But she had to go anyway.

When Stiles came to take her, she had very few things packed, just enough to fit one of her mother's old suitcases. They got into the jeep in silence and Malia only spoke two blocks away.

"Can I stay at yours today?"

With his eyes focused on the road, Stiles smiled.

"If you didn't ask, I'd suggest."

And it kind of made her smile.

-X-

It was warm outside, a nice April day, and Malia was wearing a long sleeved dark green dress that showed a lot her legs. As soon as they arrived to the Stilinski house, she took of her All Stars, went straight to the kitchen and started fixing some oatmeal for them. He helped her, preparing some apple tea that he knew was her favorite.

The kissing session started when they were waiting the oatmeal to cool out. First in the kitchen, Stiles hands on her belly and up her breasts, his lips in her ear, making her lose focus – the dishes. She was hungry. But damn, that boy knew where to touch. He was convincing, and Malia almost dropped a cup trying to fight him.

Stiles increased her hunger, but not in her stomach. It was a hunger coming from a little lower.

She turned around, facing him, and immediately he captured her lips in his. She eased off his jacket, threw it somewhere and he held her hips, turning and sitting her on the table. She pulled from him.

"We have meals here." Malia said breathlessly.

"I'm about to have a meal here." Stiles replied, making her blush a little. He used the opportunity to kiss her again and she crossed her ankles behind him, pulling him closer.

Desperately, he started to push and pull the fabric of her dress, and she was almost sitting on the table with only one layer of fabric between her and the wood, so she pushed him again, untangling her legs.

"Stiles, not here."

He looked at her.

"Your father can come in any moment."

It was a better excuse than the meals one, so Stiles shook his head and helped her to the ground. She took his hand and led him to the corridor before kissing him again.

"What about the oat-" he started, but she shut him with her mouth.

"Leave it." She said under her breath. "And make love to me."

It was something she didn't need to say twice. They stumbled to his room, barely closing the door behind them and Malia removed her panty at the same time Stiles opened his pants, lowering it to his knees. He sat on the bed and Malia climbed on top of him. They didn't bother with condoms and she gasped when she felt him inside her.

Malia was on top and dictated the tempo. They had as many clothe as the first time they were together, but that was alright. She moved slow and easy, allowing them both to feel every single moment of it, moans and kisses and hands.

Lydia had lent a book to her once. It was one of those silly romances you couldn't help but like it. Its protagonist wondered if home could be a person and not a place. Malia had the answer in her arms.

"What is it about you, Malia?" Stiles asked, his hands on her cheeks. They had finished, but he still was inside her.

"I can ask you the same." She said smiling and he smiled too. They were out of breath, but they could do a few more kisses.

After ten minutes or so, Stiles and Malia were lying on their side facing one another under his blue comforter, so close their breaths mixed together, her cold skin warm where he was touching her. His eyes were so clear; she loved his eyes. And she suddenly noticed she was using the L word when it came to Stiles.

"You stay here." He said, and she didn't understand.

"What?"

"You stay here with me. I talked to my father already and he said it's okay. You just make sure to meet Peter and Derek whenever they ask you to, because they can be a pain in the ass, but you live here, with me. I already cleaned part of my closet for you."

At first, Malia was speechless. Was it for real? Was this boy really offering her his house and his room and his closet and his bed? Would she have the chance to wake up with him every morning from now on?

The coyote girl, always so lonely, daughter of the woods more than of anybody else had really found a mate. And he had found her too.

It was the arrangement.

A/N: The book Malia refers to is Anna and the french kiss. It's so gay! And I love it.

Please review your thoughts? And thank you already! xx