Hello, lovely readers! I never do audio reads but I was listening to Interlude by London Grammar as I was writing this. Then, after that, Candles by Daughter. So, if you'd like to listen to something that reflects on the mood of this chapter, I suggest listening to that miniature playlist! Thanks, let me know what you think! :)

Stiles' POV

Stiles stared ahead at the ashen stretch of road, the morning fog wavering over the horizon. Did you seriously tell her you loved her? Stiles scolded himself, You're officially an idiot. If it wasn't official before, it is now.

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?" Stiles fell out of his thoughts.

"Can we go to my house?" Emma asked with a tired voice.

"Oh, I- I don't know. Probably not. It might still be considered-"

"A crime scene," Emma finished for him. Stiles bit the side of his cheek and turned his head to look at her. Her legs were tucked up, chin resting on her knees. She was leaning against the car door, staring ahead. The bags under her eyes were dark, the natural blush she always had was completely gone. Stiles snapped his head back to stare ahead. With his gaze fixed on the asphalt and his hands tight around the steering wheel, he silently struggled with his thoughts. How could he blurt it out to her? Especially the way he did? Where he did? Stiles sighed to himself and bit his cheek again.

"I wanna look at the stars with you," Emma broke the silence.

"It's... it's not even noon yet," Stiles mumbled seriously. Stiles heard Emma's adorable chuckle. He looked over and as they shared their first genuine laugh since they got in the car.

"I know," Emma smiled, "I mean later." Stiles pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure? It's okay if you don't quite know how the day-night cycle works. I can teach you if-" Stiles saw Emma sit up from the corner of his eye and felt her playfully nudge his shoulder as she chuckled.

"I don't need your teasing right now," she laughed.

"I'm not teasing.. this is a serious matter, Emma. How long have you been struggling with this issue?"

"Stiles," she moaned, "Stop! I'm gonna... um..." Stiles glanced over to see her confused expression as she attempted to think up a threat.

"Oh no, the world's nicest person is going to settle the score, I wonder what she'll do. I should watch my mouth, she might just give me two cookies instead of three." Emma slumped over in her seat, chortling. Stiles felt a tremendous grin grow onto his face as he listened to her cheerful laughter. It made him so happy to see her so happy, especially when it was he that made her feel that way.

"I'm just going to stop talking," she stated. The Jeep slowed to a stop at a red light. Stiles looked over at her to see her arms crossed along with a clear smirk on her face.

"Oh, you're just gonna stop talking?" Stiles echoed. She nodded at him, the smile on her face slightly spreading. "You're really just gonna hurt my feelings like that?" Emma bit down on her bottom lip and looked down, thick lashes concealing her eyes. "Wow, I can't believe you're just gonna ignore me like that. I'm just a defenceless, innocent guy and you're going to do this to me." Emma giggled. "And you're laughing at my pain, wow." Emma finally looked up, revealing her chocolate-brown eyes again. She looked ahead and cocked her head towards the front of the car. Stiles looked over to see the light was green, then quickly checked the rear-view mirror to see that there was no one behind them. Stiles smiled and looked back at her, his foot still on the brake. "What? Are you trying to tell me something?" Emma grinned, bearing her teeth. She pointed to the light, widening her eyes at Stiles. "I'm sorry, I really don't understand what you're trying to say to me." Emma threw her head back. She closed her eyes, still smiling.

"Stiles."

"Oooh! The light is green, okay, I get it," Stiles half-shouted, releasing the brake pedal and driving ahead. Stiles could sense Emma shaking her head.

"Why are you so infuriatingly wonderful?" Stiles smiled at her compliment and shrugged his shoulders cockily.

"It's an unanswered mystery," he shrugged. Emma snickered and rested her small hand on the gear shift, palm up. Stiles quickly moved his right hand off the wheel and interlaced his fingers with hers. His thumb slowly stroked the back of her hand, slowly petting the small bump of her knuckle. He heard Emma happily sigh as she tightened her grip on his hand.

Emma's POV

Emma looked over at her boyfriend, the curves of his profile deepened by the daylight's faint glow. She looked down at their joined hands, contrasting how much bigger he was than her. She wondered what she would have done without him. It was the first time the thought crossed her mind. What if she and her father had moved to a different place? What if she had been put in a different school? What if she never chose to sit beside him in Biology? She bit down on her lip as she stared at his silhouette, the possibility of a world without him crushing her. But you do have him, she reminded herself, That's what matters.

"D'ya wanna get some food?" Stiles' young, smooth voice plucked her out of her daze. He looked over at her, lips slightly parted.

"Yeah," she nodded and cleared her throat.

"Okay, let's pick something up then go to my house."

Emma smiled to herself, "I'd love that." They shared a comfortable silence. "Hey," she mumbled, "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we never met?" Stiles swallowed, his Adam's apple slightly jerking.

"Yeah."

"You have?" Emma quickly asked, surprised.

He nodded, bottom lip jutting out, "Yeah. I totally wouldn't be passing Bio." Emma chuckled and dug her free hand into his shoulder, hard. She loved that about him- his jokes. His sense of humour reminded her so much of hers; she tended to be sarcastic and cracked jokes when she needed to be serious. The difference between them, however, was that Stiles began with jokes then slowly exposed what was really on his mind, whereas Emma would be honest at the beginning of a discussion, then would get tired of the serious mood and started making fun of the situation. They balanced each other out that way.

"Seriously," she urged.

"Well, of course I have, Emma," he answered, "I always wonder about that stuff. The what-if's... I can tell you, though, if we never met that I'd still be an over-anxious flunkee who spent way too much time online."

Emma looked at him, her heart drumming, "And you're okay with your lame girlfriend taking your computer time away?"

"I'm okay with anything my cool girlfriend does," Stiles chuckled, looking over at her with big, bright eyes. She felt a massive grin grow on her face as he half-smiled at her, her cheeks sore.

"You make my cheeks hurt sometimes," she sighed, looking out her window to see they were approaching a Taco Bell. "Ah, how did you know I needed a quesadilla?" Stiles laughed.

"I'm a romantic." They picked up their grease-filled lunches and were on their way to Stiles' house, blasting the local classic rock hits radio station. They were soon nestled in his living room, blankets draped over their legs and food in their hands.

"I feel like if happiness had a taste, it'd be this," Stiles mumbled as he sucked from the straw of his cup of soda. Emma snickered and nodded. She reached for the remote and turned on the television, finding a rerun of a soap opera. She turned her attention back to her meal then glanced up at Stiles, to find he was already looking at her with a glow in his eyes.

"Your hair is getting a little longer," Emma observed.

"Yeah, I know," he groaned, "I need to-"

"Don't you dare say you need to go get it cut. I forbid it." Stiles threw his head back in a laugh.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this serious. I'm scared."

Emma fought a smile, "Don't cut it."

"Why?" he insisted, cocking his head to the side with a grin.

Emma bit her lip and looked down, wiping her fingers on a napkin, "That was mean, I'm sorry. Do you what you want, okay?" Stiles chuckled, to Emma's confusion.

"You're so cute," he chuckled. Emma responded with a laugh. They spent the rest of their lunch watching and poking fun at the soap opera. After a few minutes, they were both reclined on the couch, feet on the wrapper-covered coffee table. Emma tipped her head back to rest against the soft couch and felt her eyelids get heavier, prompting a yawn.

"Aw, is someone a wittle sweepy?" Stiles cooed. Emma smirked, her eyes closed. "You''re adorable," he breathed, his smile clear in his tone. She felt him grip her arm and pull her down. Consumed with an insistent darkness, her head sank into a pillow. Stiles' hands moved to her legs and he lifted them up so her body could be completely stretched out on the couch on her side. She shifted around to feel that the pillow her head was resting on was in his lap. "Comfortable?" he whispered.

"Mmh," she grumbled, settling her hand on Stiles' knee to feel the worn denim of his jeans. His fingers slowly ran through her hair, culling it behind her ear, sending a rush of pleasant pinches through her body. The rest of the world completely disappeared as she dozed off.

Stiles' POV

The sight of her heavy lids and peaceful sleeping pout made him smile to himself. Emma's breaths quickly turned from short to long, shallow to deep. He looked down at her, eyes travelling over her soft features. Her thick lashes looked as if they were resting on the swollen, tired lines under her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted as if she was about to talk, reminding Stiles of the time she murmured that she loved him in her sleep.

Technically she said it first, Stiles thought. The sudden reminder of his embarrassing display that morning sent a sharp, uninvited pang to his chest. He rolled his eyes to himself. Idiot. Thinking of the way her eyes widened, the way her breath caught in her throat, the surprise and hint of fear that washed over her face... all because of how he said it, completely out of the blue.. it upset him. Why did he say it? Why then?

He threw his head back. He wanted to say it to her after they were together for longer. He didn't want to freak her out. He wanted to say it to her somewhere nice, not a police station. She deserved better. He looked down at her again, feeling immense sadness. She was exhausted in every sense of the word- physically, mentally, emotionally. It hurt him to know she was in such pain. But the thought of her being able to escape it all as she slept comforted him a bit.

He flipped through the channels and found a cartoon, deciding he'd watch it until his girlfriend rose from her slumber.

Emma's POV

Emma slipped back into consciousness, stirring in her position. She turned onto her back, eyes still closed. Stiles' soft breathing filled her ears. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles then held her hands on her face to conceal herself.

"How long have I been passed out?" she mumbled, groggily.

"A good four hours."

"Four hours?" Emma half-shouted, ripping her hands off her face.

Stiles gave her a sly grin, "Like, 45 minutes." Emma sighed, smiling. She turned to lie on her side, back facing Stiles and eyes adjusting to the television's glare. She felt his large hand go down the curve of her hip then up again. She nuzzled into the pillow as he rubbed her back.

"That feels nice," she mumbled, "I might fall asleep again."

"You don't want to do that, this is a really good episode of Dragonball Z."

"You raise a good point," Emma giggled.

"Do you wanna watch the stars tonight?" Stiles asked.

"Really?" she answered, her happiness apparent in her tone. God, he made her feel good.

"Yeah, if you still want to."

"Yeah," she replied. Emma laid on his lap as the two of them remained in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the quiet humming coming from the television. Her mind quickly reminded her of all that had happened the past two days and she felt a cold, biting chill race up her body. She sat up abruptly, immersed in dizziness.

"Hey, you okay?" Emma nodded quickly.

"I just should check my phone," she answered, pulling it out of her pocket. She had an e-mail from a newsletter she forgot she signed up for, but that was it. She couldn't figure out if it was good news or bad news. She felt Stiles looking at her. She drew her attention to him to see his urgent, worried eyes. "Nothing," she whispered. Stiles sighed, looking helpless.

"Can I... is there anything I can do?" he croaked. Emma swallowed hard and laid her head back on his lap.

"Just be here, please."

"Of course," Stiles mumbled. Emma felt him bend closer to her, his warm breath washing over her cheek and neck. He left a pattern of soft, loving kisses along her jaw. Just say it, Emma internally yelled at herself, Now is the perfect time, do it.

But nothing came out. She knew she loved him. If anything, she was sure she loved him before he loved her. But there was something so painful about saying it out loud, because everyone that she had said it to... Emma stifled a sob, her body jolting.

"Hey, it's okay," Stiles squeezed her arm, "Breathe. Curl up into a ball, okay? Breathe." Emma did as he advised. She rested on the couch, painful whimpers cutting out of her throat. Would she ever be able to tell him she loved him? Would she ever be able to tell anyone ever again?