Me and Stiles lay in the sheets of our bed, legs tangled together and the late morning sun flooding the room and making it toasty warm. It's been two days since Stiles proposed to me and we've spent the days since in bed, kissing, talking, laughing and having sex. Multiple times.
I'm wearing nothing but my ring and a pair of lacy panties and Stiles is half-naked dressed only his boxers.
It's late morning and I've been awake for around an hour, but I had no intention moving as soon as I woke, Stiles has me wrapped in his arms, our bare chests touching and my face sat in the crook of his neck. I'm content here, really but I have to pee and I'm getting hungry. So I try pulling back from Stiles, but he mutters something in decipherable and pulls me close to him.
"Stiles," I say, my voice a little croaky from sleep, his eyelashes flutter but his eyes don't open. "Stiles it's..." I say looking behind me for the time, "It's just gone eleven."
"Just one more minute," He mutters as his nose nudges mine, I smile a little instinctively, but still continue my struggle to get out of his grip, "Baby, no."
My heart stops a little, baby, gets me every damn time. If he would've said my name or anything else I probably would've just carried on trying to get out of his grip, but no, I have no self control so I allow him that extra minute he asked for as I admire his sloped nose, his cluster of moles and his dark hair as he sleeps peacefully.
Once it feels as though enough time has passed I kiss Stiles' cheek, then pull away looking at his face, nothing. I place a lingering kiss on his jaw and still nothing, I sigh and struggle again against his arms but still he is intent of having another day in bed. Well he can think on.
"Stiles," I say again, this time he opens his eyes and I smile, "Good morning."
"Good morning to you too, baby." He smiles, placing a kiss on my nose.
I drag my fingers across his chest, dipping into his collar bones and tracing his moles and freckles. My fingers trail small circles around his nipple, making it go hard and erupt with goose-bumps.
"I like it when you call me baby." I whisper not sure if Stiles heard, I chance a look at him and he's looking right back down at me.
"Yeah?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow, I nod and he kisses my forehead, "Noted."
"We should probably get up," I sigh, rolling over so I face away from Stiles, his face and body becoming a distraction as to why I haven't got out of bed yet.
"Or maybe we should just spend another day in bed, just as a pre-honeymoon thing before our wedding." He says, I hear the smile in his voice as he says 'wedding', I smile too because I know how important it is to both of us, being able to celebrate our love with our family and friends. When I think about how he proposed I know I should feel disappointed it happened in the early hours of the morning and in our kitchen, but I can't shake the feeling of being so happy and content with how it all happened. I couldn't think of a more better way.
"Perhaps not," I laugh, as I try to untangle our legs, but Stiles isn't having any of it so I sigh and turn to him, pressing my forehead to his.
"I can think of something better than getting up," Stiles says, a handing trailing down my legs, my eyes flutter shut and I grab hold of his shoulders, releasing a sigh I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of.
"Stiles," I say as he catches his lips with mine, I pull away leaving him pouting, my lips are swollen anyway from all the kissing and I genuinely feel weak after all the sex we've been having, even if I do love it.
"I'm pretty sure I've orgasmed about ten times in the last forty-eight hours and I don't think I can walk straight right now." I tell him, he chuckles lightly and pecks my lips, holding onto my bottom one then playfully biting on it.
"I love you," He tells me, his eyes closing and his mouth curling into a smile.
"I know," I tell him, "And I don't blame you, I am a pretty amazing person." I say nonchalantly. Stiles opens his eyes and smirks whilst rolling his eyes.
"I wouldn't get to big-headed, I won't marry you otherwise." Stiles jokes back, not missing a beat, looking me square in the eye.
"Tough, you're stuck with me," I tell him only being half playful. "Besides you love me too much." I wink at him as now I am able to slide out of his arms and get up. I walk to our closet and fish out one of Stiles' flannel shirts then walk into kitchen whilst hearing Stiles mutter;
"That I do."
I wonder into the kitchen, my bare feet cool against the wood floor, as I look for something good to eat for breakfast.
"Stiles, we have no food!" I call out to him as I open and shut cupboard doors, I hear him groan and get out of bed then he appears at the doorway. His eyes hazy from sleep and his hair ruffled in the most cutest way ever.
"Yes we do." Stiles yawns as he walks over to the fridge opening it, reaching for something then placing it on the counter as he closes the fridge door.
Pancake mix.
"But pancakes take ages," I sigh as I go to the fridge and pour us both a glass of orange juice.
"But pancakes take ages..." Stiles mocks me, laughing at his own joke. I grab the dish cloth and smack his ass with it, all the while he tries dodging it but fails and ends up stumbling into the kitchen top. His smile all teeth and goofy.
"Don't mock me." I tell him as seriously as I can despite finding the situation funny myself. He laughs at me and touches the small of my back as he goes to retrieve a frying pan out of our bottom cupboard.
So once Stiles makes the pancakes and finishes them eventually -we stop for a lot of make out breaks- he stacks them on a plate and places them on the table, sitting opposite me on our table.
"Can I ask you a question?" Stiles asks, I look up from my food and nod as I fill my mouth, "Do you think we'll spend all of our lives in Beacon Hills?"
"I guess," I shrug, "We need to raise our children here, who else can protect this town if we're not here?"
"You think about children?" Stiles asks, I try to keep my breathing in tact as I nod. Of course I think of children, it's something every girl thinks of for the majority of her life because you know you are able to carry one.
"Don't you?" I ask, forgetting my food for now as the conversation is more gripping.
"Of course I do, I wasn't sure if it was my younger self thinking that though. I used to fantasize about everything our future would be like." He tells me, his voice soft as he gazes at me intently.
"What was our future?" I ask my voice quiet and soft like his.
"We get married," He says, he looks at my hand and smiles, "We move into a house that maybe I don't really like but because you convince me to buy it I end up loving it because you love it, then you get pregnant and you're all nervous about it in a wonderfully cute way and I have to tell you over and over you're going to be a great mom, even if you don't believe it. Then we'll raise it, maybe have another one if that's what you want. And we go grow old and happy together." He tells me, all in one hit as if he had every detail of our life mapped out for us. It's the most attractive thing I've ever seen.
I'm at a loss for words, I just sit there staring at him as I rub circles into his hand.
"I want that..." I whisper to him, his eyes meet mine and he raises his eyebrows as if to say 'Really?' and I nod in return. His smile is small and reassuring, but mostly happy.
"Good, we better start looking for a a house then," Stiles winks at me, I smile at him but seeming as he just made my heart bleed with love I figure the least I can do is sort out his morning boner that is still partly evident.
I stand and reach for his hand pulling him up and leading him into our bedroom, then sear him with a kiss before he asks questions.
"I love you," I say once more, because sometimes I have to make sure he really knows it. "And I cannot wait until we start a family, and move out and do adult-y things." I smile at him as I slowly start unbuttoning his shirt I'm wearing.
"Lyds, we are twenty-two." He laughs, as if I didn't already know that.
"Shocker." I reply with him as I let the shirt fall his eyes landing on my breasts.
"Don't you have to be at the station today?" I say as he cups one while kissing my neck.
"Mhmm."
"Oh."
"But I'd rather be here." He tells me gently. I smile and then we have sex for the... however many times its been in the past two days and if I couldn't walk straight before I'm pretty sure I won't even be able to stand now.
"Hello?" Stiles says into his phone as he gets dressed in his deputy uniform, one of my favorite sights in the morning. He had just gotten out of the shower and I haven't moved from our bed, but his phone started ringing saying it was his dad.
"Dad you sure you aren't just paranoid?" He asks his brows furrowed together as he wears a confused look on his face. "Alright, be there in ten."
"What was that?" I ask as I get out of bed, sighing as I reach for a towel in our en suite.
"Dad said there was a suicide, but he thinks it's a murder. Of course it can't just be suicide can it," He sighs and runs his hand though his hair making it spike uncontrollably. "Nothing is straight forward."
"Stiles, I'm sure it is just a suicide, can you help your dad for worrying? The world we live in, it is pretty understandable as to why he may think that." I tell him softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, he nods and kisses my hand so I pull him for a hug and kiss his lips as we pull away.
"Do you think you can come into the station today? My brain isn't functioning right now." Stiles asks, his eyebrows raising in hope. When Stiles did his training in crime I always used to help him, half because I enjoyed doing it and half because he wanted me to help him.
"Of course, I miss our detective days," I wink at him, "What time?"
"In about an hour?" He asks, I nod and we both share a smile, "You're a life saver I'll see you then. I love you, baby." He says as he leaves, I hear the smirk in his voice when he says 'baby'. Maybe because of what I told him, so I smile to myself.
So within the the hour I shower, do my hair, make my face up and dress in a top and a skirt with my signature heels, remembering to put my engagement ring on. That's when I realize that the only people who know are me and Stiles. That's all. I leave our apartment reaching the station bang on an hour when he told me to meet him. As I walk in I pass Parish, who isn't deputy any more, Stiles took that place but when the Sheriff retires Parish will get it back and Stiles will be Sheriff. I know Parish wasn't too happy about that.
I enter the Sheriff's office to find him and Stiles stood over paperwork and in a heated discussion.
"Hey," I say as I close the door behind me. Th Sheriff smiles and his eyes go down to my hand where my engagement ring sits.
"Congratulations," He says to me, I smile and look at Stiles who appears to be blushing. "I applaud you for even dating him this long, let alone marrying him." The Sheriff jokes, playfully winking at me and hitting Stiles' back.
"Thank you, Sheriff." I nod, smiling then raising my eyebrows at Stiles.
"Ha. Ha." Stiles mocks, "But we do have more important things right now." Stiles tells me, he points to the paper then runs his hands through his hair.
"What's going on?" I ask as I place my bag in the chair next to the door and walk over to see the papers.
"A young girl named Jess Leatherwood, committed suicide yesterday, we found her body this morning." The Sheriff tells me, he hands me over a portfolio of the girl and I quickly look through it. She was dark haired, blue-eyed and her complexion was pale. "She was twenty-one, her birthday in a few months." He continues.
"So, you don't think it was a suicide?" I ask, as I continue reading about her. She graduated Beacon Hills High a year after me and Stiles did.
"I think it would be far too an easy case if it was," The Sheriff sighs, "Stiles you're going to have to check it out, see what you think."
"Then I'm going." I say defiantly feeling like a teenager again.
"No," Stiles and the Sheriff say in unison.
"It's too disturbing," Stiles states, "I'm not giving you nightmares."
"Stiles, I can handle it." I tell him, placing a hand on his arm, "Please."
"Fine." Stiles says after we stare at each other for a while. I kiss his cheek and grab my bag.
"Just see if you can see anything suspicious," The Sheriff tells us as we make for the door, "And be careful."
"Will do, Dad."
We drive in the Sheriffs car to the crime scene to find a large house surrounded by yellow police tape and a cop standing guard. As we walk into the house Stiles puts a hand on my back as the bitter cold of the room sweeps over us. A little too bitter cold for the weather outside if you ask me. We near the girls bedroom when I get an overwhelming feeling of death wash over me. I don't think Stiles feels it, maybe it's a banshee thing. We enter and if it's possible it gets colder, I shiver.
The girl, whose picture I saw still lies on her bed, she hasn't gone to the hospital yet, strange. Her hair is sprawled out on the bed, her skin white and her lips blue. I try my best not to look away.
"Why's her body still here?" I whisper to Stiles, somehow feeling if I speak to loud my voice might wake her.
"They're taking it in about an hour according to my Dad," Stiles tells me, his voice low but not a whisper, "She was younger than us."
"I know, I know." I sigh as we walk closer, both of us standing on either side of her cold, lifeless body.
I examine her without trying to look at her features that were once full of life. Her skin isn't marked, or she has no self-inflicted wounds on her body or no rope burn around her neck. If she committed suicide, then how did she do it?
"Stiles, how..."
"Suspected drug overdose." He states as he stares at her body, in deep concentration.
"What're you thinking?"
"Her skin," He says, scratching an eyebrow as he looks closer, "Its not death-white," He examines, I look up at him confused, "Look, it's almost..." I look back down at her skin now I'm closer to it.
"Yellow," I finish for him, now that I look at it more carefully I can see, ever so slightly, the small tints of yellow seeping through. "Yellow means... liver failure or something. Right?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't make sense." He frowns as he makes notes on a mini notepad from his pocket, "Unless she was an alcoholic..." He murmurs, but he doesn't sound convinced, her skin would look far worse.
"Maybe she was poisoned," I suggest, Stiles meets my eye, raising his eyebrow in thought.
"What supernatural creature do you know poisons people?"
"Who says it was supernatural?" I question, but when it comes out it's unconvincing. "Or not."
"Do you sense anything?"
"No, except an unnerving cold and a immense feeling of death washed over me when we walked in, but that's it." I tell him, shrugging.
"I guess we wait until she's tested," Stiles sighs, guiding us back outside and driving us back to the station.
Although Stiles seems okay I still have goosebumps and something unnerving settling over me. The way she was on her bed and looked untouched makes it seem as if she were touched, and not by a human.