Stiles woke again, on the edge of the bed this time, about to fall off. He steadied himself and sat up. It looked like mid evening out of the window, and Stiles suddenly felt overwhelmingly bored. He stood up, once again needing to steady himself. He rubbed his wrists, where faint red marks were from the chains.

The house wasn't empty, Stiles could feel Derek's presence throughout the house. He adventured around the house, looking for Derek. Kitchen, bathroom, living room. Nothing. And then Stiles saw him. Sitting outside in the grass behind the house, cross legged, and staring out into the nothingness. Stiles smiled. He looked so peaceful, not his usual and tense self. Stiles wondered out behind him and stopped.

"You know, I'm kinda sick of waking up alone." Stiles smiled.

Derek turned his neck and smiled back.

"I don't sleep much." Derek patted the ground next to him and beckoned Stiles over. Stiles willingly paced over and sat down next to him.

"You know, Derek. I was scared I wasn't going to find...this." Stiles murmured, rubbing sheets of grass between his fingers.

"This?"

"You know. It's just. I used to read these stupid books about love, you know, Nicholas Sparks shit. And I used to put the book down and say well I'm never gonna get that and feel sorry for myself. And then you came along in the most un-story-book-like fashion and look at me now."

Derek smiled and looked at Stiles. He just looked at him, he didn't blink or take his eyes away. Eventually, Derek scooted closer to Stiles and rested his arm around him, bringing Stiles' head to his chest.

"You know Stiles. You're too young to feel...Stiles?" Derek raised Stiles' head so that he could see his face. "You're awfully cold. You need food. Stupid me." He murmured.

Tense again.

"I'm fine, Derek. Honestly, can you stop worrying." Stiles murmured, his head still perched in Derek's hands.

"But look at your eyes. They look so empty." Derek sighed, searching Stiles for the slightest hint of uncertainty.

"Derek-"

"I need to take you on your first hunt."

Stiles suddenly went quiet, and began to shake. It made him nervous, he was so placid, he couldn't think about killing something or someone.

"Why are you shivering? Stiles, don't worry. Once you're out there, you'll be fine." Derek said, his eyebrows knitting together.

So this was it. Stiles was finally going to learn to hunt. He couldn't bare the thought of mauling someones face off, let alone a squirrels. Derek rose, leafs sticking to his jeans but Stiles reached up and gently plucked them off. Stiles did the same, standing bewildered.

"Do we need anything? Jackets? Harpoons?" Stiles laughed nervously.

"No. Once you're out there, it's you and only you. I will be merely an object. You know, I am quite curious though to see how you turn out in the scheme of things." Derek shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Jackson was a shit person and he turned into the Kanima. And, well, you're a good person Stiles." Derek trailed off slightly.

Stiles could tell flirting wasn't Derek's thing, so he didn't push it any further.

They wondered out into the forest, hand in hand, talking about nothing. Stiles found it most peaceful, having endless chats about meaningless things.

Derek let go eventually and halted in an open area, deep in the thick forest.

"Now," Derek began stepping away from Stiles.

"Go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes, Stiles, a walk."

Stiles shrugged, raising an eyebrow, but unquestionably walking away from Derek, deeper into the forest.

Stiles didn't know it, but Derek was following him a little while back, trying not to be heard or seen by Stiles. Derek was most fascinated with what was about to happen.

Eventually, after only ten or so minutes, Stiles suddenly stopped. He raised his head and looked up through the trees. He could smell something around him. It was messing with his head. He walked a little further forward, but stopped again, before crouching and scratching his head. Stiles slumped onto the ground and put his head in his hands. But then, Stiles' head craned upwards, his eyes glistening in a deep blue tone. He began to breathe in the scent deeply; engulfing it, swallowing it, embracing it.

Derek was perched on a bank watching Stiles and how composed he was. Derek had also picked up the scent of a deer off in the distance.

Stiles rolled his neck. He felt good; too good. He jumped to his feet, and began to follow the scent, eyes still glistening. Derek followed instinctively.

Stiles was surprisingly fast, and even Derek was struggling to keep up with him. And just as he did catch up with him, and the deer, Derek saw Stiles stretch onto all fours and pounce on the deer. As he jumped, though, Stiles' skin shed off his body and was replace by a thick, white coat. His long, slender hands now paws. And his body now a magnificent wolf.

He had changed into the most loveliest of creatures. Derek had never seen such a transformation happen to a human being.

Stiles was beautiful.