Stiles didn't want to stop. He didn't. He didn't want to know that Scott only spoke to him for the first time in months because he showed up with a new person. He really didn't want to believe that that was the only reason his childhood friend spoke to him.
He stopped.
Abbadon Pitkis stood right behind him.
Maybe Peter was responding to what he was feeling. Maybe he was just following the Contract. Maybe he just wanted to scare teenagers. But he stood, his arm pressed lightly against his shoulder blade, a solid dark weight beside him.
Scott stuttered to a stop in front of them, daunted by the blank stare on the stranger's face. Allison and Lydia were a ways behind him, unsubtle about staring at them. Jackson was leaning against a near locker, looking completely uninterested in everything.
Stiles was under the impression he would at least get to lunch before being ambushed and that the middle of a hallway was a horrible place to do this.
"Scott, I really don't feel like doing this," said Stiles, voice so bitter and tired he barely sounded like himself.
"Doing what?" Scott asked, genuinely confused.
Stiles sighed, feeling Pitkis at his shoulder. "I didn't want to believe you would be this petty or obtuse," Stiles said, his eyes tired as he looked at the genuine emotions on his once best friend's face. "Go back to ignoring me, I won't be a novelty for long."
Scott spluttered. "Wha-I haven't been ignoring you!" He went to take a step closer, but something about the way the stranger's head titled suddenly at his movement stopped him.
Stiles couldn't help the harsh bark of laughter. "Oh, that's rich! You didn't even realise!" Shaking his head incredulously, he rocked back on his heels, shoving a hand through his hair viciously. He bumped against the solid mass which was Peter. The rush of darkshadowsmagic he felt through the contact lit a fire behind his eyes. At that moment, he didn't care if his eyes were glowing, he was glaring too much for people to see his flashing iris' properly anyway. "You son of a-" He didn't know where he was going to go with that sentence, but the late bell cut him off before he could finish it. Shaking his head again, he just sighed hard through his nose, teeth clenched.
Turning away from Scott, he shoved his hands in his pocket. "Let's get to class, Peter," he mumbled, suddenly tired again.
The demon turned and kept in step with the Spark. And just as he turned, he caught the speculative gleam in the redhead's eye.
The next class passed in the same way; Stiles doodled while the teacher explained Parametric Derivative Formulas; Peter watched the other students and the students watched them back. Lydia was in class with them again. Her steady gaze was scrutinizing Peter again. He still couldn't place the buzz he felt around her, but the weight of her staring was starting to grate on his originally small patience.
Finally grabbing his tastefully plain notebooks and pen out of his bag for the first time that day, he flipped to a clean page and scribbled down a small note. Running the tip of his finger down the edge of the paper with a brush of shadowMagikpower, the paper splitting noiselessly. If he had ripped the page out, it would have made so much noise. He couldn't be bothered to deal with that. Sliding the sheet over to Stiles' desk, he kept an eye on the teacher to make sure he didn't notice.
Stiles couldn't help but notice the sheet suddenly covering his the corner of his notebook. Sliding it closer, he was pleasantly surprised at how neat the demons handwriting was.
What's the deal with the redhead?
Stiles couldn't help turning and glancing at Lydia. She didn't turn away from scrutinizing Peter, not noticing Stiles at all. As per usual.
I'll tell you during free period, Stiles quickly scribbled, shaking his head as he passed the note back. He had college work to do during free, it was due this evening, but if Lydia did this all day, Peter was going to be too curious to leave it alone. He could give him the cliff notes version.
The rest of class dragged. Stiles couldn't focus on the maths or his doodles, the vibrant red hair drawing his attention in the corner of his eye.
When the bell finally rang, his stuff was already packed and he was standing and ready to go immediately. Peter stood just as quickly, all packed with their now empty thermos tucked in his bag. They left the classroom quickly, keeping stride with one another. Stiles didn't want to give Scott another option to ambush him and, although Lydia was fast, she couldn't have followed them that quickly. Making their way to a quieter area of the school, full of study rooms for individual students. It was near the library, but you had to book them in advance. As soon as Stiles received confirmation he could start his college ungrad courses this year with the local community college, he moved forward with them as soon as he could and was able to book a study room for the whole year. He was doing what they called "remote learning", which was actually just online courses. They had been impressed by his perseverance after the end of last year, and as his 10th grade SAT scores had reached the upper 10th percentile, they had decided to make exceptions to allow him to begin his undergraduate courses while he finished high school. As he was on track to graduate this year, as long as he kept up with his assignments, both the college and high school were happy to allow it.
The study rooms were small, just big enough to fit a four seat table and chairs, with a window. Outlets for computers were strategically placed for ease of use right next to the table. After Stiles had unlocked the door with the key given to him when he booked it, Peter glanced outside while Stiles set up his laptop. There was a good view taking in the lacrosse field all the way to the forest behind.
"Decent view," he remarked, turning around and settling in the chair opposite Stiles.
"Hmm," came the noncommittal reply. Stiles was grabbing a notebook from his bag and a pen, in case he had something to note down. It was normal for him to be focusing on something and to suddenly get an idea for something else. He'd learnt that if he didn't write it down or make some sort of note about it, he would get dragged down that path instead of focusing on the work he actually had to do.
Thunk. Stiles was startled up from reading his assignment brief through again by Peter's feet landing on the table. The demon had settled comfortably with feet up on the table, hands crossed on his stomach and was slouch down his chair, looking innocently at Stiles. The Spark just blinked slowly at him, a bland expression on his face. Peter cracked a grin first, Stiles snorting a laugh close behind and shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. Peter was the first person he had had with him in his study room. If Peter counted as a person.
"So," Peter trailed off, looking at Stiles expectantly.
The smile on Stiles face turned sour. "She's Lydia Martin." Peter just kept the expectant face. Stiles sighed, lowering his laptop screen. "She's brilliantly smart, beautiful and can out manoeuvre the brightest of people. I used to consider myself in love with her, before I realised the tits weren't doing it for me and I was more interested in her math equations than her luscious body."
Peter's gaze didn't falter. "There's something else."
Stiles looked away first. "Something happened with her boyfriend. And I don't know if she knows or not, but if she does, I can never forgive her."
The demon let it drop, the bond aching in time with the hurt Stiles felt. He decided not to tell the Spark about her strange buzzing just yet. Moving onto a safer topic, he asked, "So. What are you working on?"
Something brightened in the Spark's face, but there were still shadows under the mask. "I got accepted into college for Linguistics 100 and Religious Studies 90A. I have assignments due today and I've got to finish them."
"Aren't you just a high school student?" Peter asked, head tilted inquisitively.
Stiles couldn't help the small proud smile creeping onto to his lips. "I got early acceptance, cause I'm graduating early and my results were good enough."
Peter made an impressed noise. "Sounds like you've been busy."
"And I'm busy now, so," Stiles snarked back, opening his laptop fully again and getting back to work. The intro classes were fairly simple, but doing a double major whilst doing AP classes meant he actually had to focus and get work done when he could. He had missed a whole weekend of work and had to catch up as soon as he could or he would be overwhelmed quickly. Stiles was just happy he was able to drop Chemistry after last year. Harris was an ass and he was so glad to be rid of him.
Peter settled in to alternate watching the PE class on the lacrosse field and Stiles chewing whatever was in reach. No pen was safe.
The sun was well and truly up by this point in the day, but it seemed to fill up the room in a warm glow as the free period carried on. Peter always enjoyed the feel of the sun on his human skin. Contrary to popular culture, the Hell realm wasn't all brimstone and fire. It was mostly cold and lit by torches. Most demons didn't feel the frigidness in the air, but the unlucky souls did, adding to their suffering. Peter had always enjoyed the warmth the Upper world had. People took it for granted and didn't notice it enough.
Without really realising, an hour had passed and Stiles was just wrapping his assignments as the bell rang. Sighing heavily, Stiles packed away his laptop and notebook. There were a few random notes on it, some about runes he could tattoo to help with some stuff, warding to research into, medical terms he needed to remember to look into that he had heard during his hospital stay. Thankfully he had managed to stay on track with the assignments and had gotten the bulk of it done, just needed to be proofread before sending it to his professors tonight.
"Do you want some more coffee?" Peter asked, sliding his feet off the table from where he had been lounging like a cat in the sun the whole hour.
"Nah, I'll grab some at lunch instead," Stiles replied. "We have history now. Scott's in that class." He muttered shortly.
Peter couldn't help but smirk. "He doesn't seem to like me much."
Stiles snorted. "Well, you are kind of terrifying when you want to be."
Stepping closer, he leant into the Spark's face and purred, "As are you, dear boy."
Stiles kept his gaze of Peter's, impassive. He blinked and then breathed out slowly, controlled. Without saying a word, he stepped around Peter and headed to the door. Peter smirked and followed, always just a step behind.
