Chapter 30: False Awakening
I woke up in Stiles' bed and had to use the bathroom. Sighing, I got up and went down the dark hall to relieve my bladder. The house was quiet as I made my way back to Stiles' room and bed. I laid back down, but as the night's conversation replayed in my mind, I found myself tossing and turning.
After we'd told the sheriff what had happened, we'd talked for over an hour trying to figure out how to save Stiles. By midnight we had still gotten nowhere and the pizzas were only half gone; none of us felt much like eating. The sheriff decided we should sleep on it and talk further in the morning with the rest of the pack.
He told Stiles to give up his bed for me and he could sleep down on the couch. "It's good manners and should prevent any funny business under my roof," he said looking tiredly between Stiles and me.
We both blushed and stuttered our innocence, but the sheriff just waved his hand for us to save our breaths and head upstairs. When he reached his bedroom door, he stopped before going in and told Stiles to change his sheets and grab extra blankets for the couch before telling us goodnight and closing his door.
We stood in the hallway, both still very aware of the bathroom incident and finding ourselves alone for the first time since left us both feeling awkward and avoiding each other's eye. I cleared my throat, "I guess I'll go change and brush my teeth," I said.
Stiles took a breath, "I'll go strip the bed," he said, and we went our separate ways.
I headed to the bathroom down the hallway; my bag was still in there from earlier. I changed into a pair of high waisted black yoga shorts and a cropped maroon sweatshirt with the letters 'MFHS' in gold and brushed my teeth. I combed my hair and braided it over my shoulder.
When I had finished getting ready for bed, I grabbed my bag and tip-toed down the hall and peeked into Stiles' room. His bed was already made with the fresh bedding, and he was across the room with his back to me changing into the clothes I had worn of his a few days before. He'd already had the grey sweatpants on when I'd arrived.
I watched as he pulled off his blue and black flannel and then his black t-shirt and draped them across the desk chair where his jeans were already laid. I bit my lip as I drank in his bare torso before he picked up the red and white flannel and slowly raised it to inhale its scent. He smirked as he pulled on the borrowed shirt and turned, catching me watching him.
"They still smell like you," he murmured, finally holding my eye as the roses bloomed in his cheeks.
I felt the heat in my own as I walked across the room to face down the awkwardness between us and put it to rest. I dropped my bag by his desk and smiled shyly. I was no vampire expert, but I knew from experience that he had heard me approach his room, knew I was there the whole time; watching him. My heart was pounding so loud the whole time there was no way he couldn't have heard me. Standing in front of him, I reached up to grab the open fronts of his flannel and pulled him down gently to kiss him goodnight. He cupped my face in his cool hands before moving them to tangle in my hair.
I let my fingers slide down the front edges of his shirt until I found a button somewhere half way down, then proceeded to button the bottom few. He chuckled as his lips slid from mine down to my shoulder. A false-firm, "Behave," from me had him chuckling again as he stood back up. His hands trailed down my arms to loosely hold my hands.
"Goodnight, Xayne," he smirked as he walked backwards and let my fingers fall through his.
"Goodnight, Stiles," I smirked right back.
After closing the door behind him, I looked around. My eyes were drawn to the clothes of his laying across his desk chair, but I climbed in under the covers and was asleep in seconds.
Until now. I tried and failed to go back to sleep, so I sat up and turned on the lamp beside the bed. I got up to get my 'Becoming Supernatural' book out from my bag, but after a few minutes of trying to read, I found I couldn't make sense of the words and put it down on the nightstand. I sighed and looked around again until my eyes fell on the clothes again. The sheets smelled fresh and clean, but not of him... I bit my lip as I got up and made my way over to them. I picked up the black and blue flannel and breathed in his scent; it was subtle to my human nose, but it was there. I smirked and decided to change into it. I pulled off my sweatshirt and slid my arms into his flannel. I only had the first few buttons done when a movement at the door caused me to look up. I jumped and nearly screamed when I saw Stiles standing in the door way (I realized I'd neglected to close the door when I'd come back from the bathroom). He was leaning on the frame as though he had been there for a while. His eyes seemed darker than usual but my mind could have been playing tricks on me in the dim light. With my heart still in my throat and blushing at being caught, I whispered, "How long have you been standing there?"
A predatory smirk grew on his lips as he silently stalked closer. "Long enough," he purred as he shut the door without a sound behind him.
My mouth went dry, "What are you doing?" I squeaked.
"I heard you moving around up here and wanted to come see if you were ok," he murmured as he inched closer.
"I'm fine," I whispered, backing away, unsure; Stiles was not this bold normally.
He took his time to rake his eyes over me slowly down and then up again before replying, "Yes, you are."
I blushed harder and cleared my throat. "Sorry if I woke you; I-I couldn't sleep," I explained, backing into his bed which thoroughly stopped my retreat.
Stiles finally reached me and leaned down to whisper over my lips. "Let's see if we can't remedy that, hmm?"
"Stiles-!" I started, but his kiss cut me off and took my breath away.
He leaned further over me until he had gently pushed me down on his bed. His kisses were slow and deep and delicious. I ran my hands from his chest up to tangle in his soft hair. He swiped his tongue across mine one last time before he kissed a path down to my neck.
It felt amazing, but it was too fast for me and I didn't want to get caught or disappoint the sheriff. "Stiles," I whispered when he started to nibble on my ear. He hummed in response but didn't stop. I whispered his name again, but again he just hummed as he placed hot kisses all along my throat. Suddenly, I felt sharp teeth scrape my pulse point and I tensed and gasped. "No, Stiles, don't!" I pushed at him, but he was like granite and didn't move an inch.
He did stop, though, and leaned away to look at me, but to my shock and confusion, it wasn't Stiles at all. It was a man I guessed to be in his early to mid-twenties. He had flawless, pale skin, a chiseled jawline, soft raven-black hair that flowed around his very attractive face, and delectable lips that looked as if they were made for kissing. His thick, dark lashes, however, framed pale-blue eyes that made my blood turn cold in my veins. These were the eyes of a predator if I ever saw them. I gasped and struggled to pull as far away as I could (which was not far) and to push him off of me, but to no avail. In fact, before I even realized he had moved, both of my wrists were pinned above my head in one of his much bigger, much stronger hands.
"But your scent is so intoxicating," he purred before he leaned down to sniff my throat. His voice was smooth and sensual like a red velvet dessert. My breath caught when he kissed my throat where Stiles had moments before (or had it been this man the whole time?). He hummed in pleasure at my reaction which in turn caused me to tense and again try to pull away.
He glided the fingers of his free hand across my exposed stomach- not having gotten the rest of the buttons buttoned. He slowly raised his head from my throat and looked back at me. "You're sure?" he asked, his feather-light touch moving higher to the bottoms of my ribs.
I squirmed. "Please," I begged, not sure what I was asking for.
In answer, he dipped his mouth once more to lick my throat along my jugular with another pleased hum when I gasped. I clenched my eyes closed as I tried in vain to pull my hands free. I whimpered when they didn't budge.
His purr turned into a growl as he looked back at me, but this time his eyes were red, with black veins all around them, and fangs flashed between his red lips. I tried to scream but no sound came out. "Then you'll have to die to save him!" he growled as he lunged for my throat with his fangs bared.
I sat up in a cold sweat, my hands flying to my throat, only to see Stiles standing over me. I filled my lungs to scream, but he pressed a cool finger to my lips. I was in his bed with the blankets and sheets tangled around my feet. It was dark in his room. He leaned over me to switch on his bedside lamp. My book wasn't there; That's right, it was downstairs somewhere in the box with all of my other books. I looked down and saw I still wore my sweatshirt.
Stiles moved his hand to my shoulder as he sat down beside me on the bed. "It's ok. You're ok; it was just a dream," he soothed.
"A dream?" I repeated, still panting from fear.
"Yes," he whispered. He ran his fingers feather-soft up my throat and along my jaw, to slowly turn my face to look at him.
As my breaths slowed, I leaned into him and tried to slow my racing heart. "How'd you know-?" I half asked.
"I could hear your heart rate jumping all over the place from downstairs. Was it very bad?" he asked still in a calming tone.
I thought about the beginning of my dream. "Not all of it," I blushed, "just the end was bad."
"What happened at the beginning?" he asked.
My blush burned brighter and I couldn't quite meet his gaze as I stuttered, "Well, I thought I was awake and couldn't sleep, so I-," I glanced over at his pile of clothes on his desk chair. His gaze followed mine as I continued, "I put your sh-shirt on," this was so embarrassing. "But then you saw me changing-," I cleared my throat. "and you were... kissing me." I looked down at the blankets. My heart was pounding again as a shuddering breath escaped me.
Stiles blinked and blushed as well. "Oh," he whispered, then cleared his throat. "Hmmm..." he hummed and swallowed a smirk. "What happened at the end?"
I felt the fear again. "He said I'd have to die to save you."
"What? Who?" he asked.
I shook my head, "I don't know- I've never seen him before, but," I looked away, ashamed of my dream-state infidelity, "he was a vampire."
Stiles froze and his voice was harsh. "What do you want from me? I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to run away."
I looked at him startled and confused by the sudden animosity, "What are you talking about?"
"I don't want to be here fading; I'm never gonna be the same." He stood suddenly and pointed an accusing finger at me. "You try to control me, but you don't own me!" his voice was getting louder.
I kept my voice low, "Whoa, Stiles, where is this coming from?" My heart was thundering behind my ribs.
He began to pace, and spoke like I hadn't said a word. "How come you just want to hurt me? How come you just want to push me? Everywhere I turn you burn me, you break me; you always want to take me down!"
I went from confused to pissed in an instant. I didn't bother to lower my voice anymore either. "I'm not! I'm trying to help you! I love you!" His image wavered as the angry tears welled in my eyes. Curse me being an angry crier! What a way to share my feelings for him for the first time.
He sneered at me. "You love me?" He shook his head. "You hate me!" he accused, bitterly.
I gasped as though he had slapped me across the face. At that moment the sheriff came through the door to see what the commotion was, but before he could say word, Stiles screamed at me, "Look what you do to me!" as he attacked his father.
Horrified by what was happening, I yelled, "Stiles, no! Stop!" and jumped to pull him away only to get tripped up in the blankets still tangled around my legs. I face-planted off of the bed and landed on the floor in a heap.
"No! Sstiles, sstop!" My yells came out muffled and slurred.
"Shhh, Xayne. It's ok; you're ok," Stiles' whispered from somewhere above my head. He gently untangled me from the sheets and then lifted me up and set me back on his bed. "It was just a dream," he soothed.
Unnerved by his words, I jumped away and stood by his desk chair. "No, no, no!" I whispered urgently, "that's what you said last time!"
He put his hands up, "I could hear your heart rate jumping all over the place from downstairs. Was it very bad?" he asked still in a calming tone.
I felt the blood drain from my face and covered my ears and clenched my eyes shut. "Stop it, stop it! You said that already!" Was I dreaming again? Was I still dreaming? Was I actually awake this time? Oh, Jesus!
Stiles was in front of me in an instant and I felt his cool hands on my wrists. "Xayne, look at me. Open your eyes. Please? For me?"
I peeked up at him. "I can't wake up, Stiles. Every time I think I am, I get lost in another dream. Help me," I pleaded.
His eyes softened, "I understand. Come here and read this," he turned me to read the giant band poster on his wall. I looked at him, unsure how this would help. "You can't read when you're dreaming. The words get all mixed up. Now, read the poster to me."
I looked back and read, "Slow Kids at Play," still skeptical.
He smiled at me, "See? You're awake." I still wasn't convinced and he could tell. Patiently, he turned me. "Ok, look at your hands," he instructed. I obeyed. "Do they look normal? How many fingers do you have?"
I counted, "Ten," I whispered.
Then without a word he guided me to his closet door and opened it. Inside the door was a hanging mirror. He turned on the bedside lamp and came back beside me. "Is your reflection normal?"
I stepped closer and cringed a little. I wore my pajamas and it was my face for sure. "Yes, but," my hair was a hot mess and I was pale and I had dark circles under my eyes, "I look horrible." I reached up to fix my hair.
Stiles stepped up behind me, and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I think you look beautiful," before kissing me tenderly on my cheek. I gave his reflection a small smile. "I'll stay with you, if you'd like. Would you like to talk about them- your dreams?"
I turned in his arms and buried my face in the exposed skin of his chest and snaked my palms under his shirt to slide around his torso. Tightening my arms around him I breathed in his scent and immediately felt safer. "Yes, please," I murmured, my lips brushing his skin.
