Author's note: Oh, wow, sorry for taking so long to update! I had things to do this week, a lot of things. I'm not a student this semester :( Saw a few friends from my class last monday and then I saw the beautiful and incredible Maracanã stadium (it's seriously beautiful, guys!) and remember what I said about the Arpoador sunset? I didn't get to see it. We did go to Ipanema and to the Arpoador beach, but it was cloudy :( Second time it happens, I have such cold feet ._.

The thing is, by the time I got home I was just exhausted. I must have slept for 18 hours on tuesday, no shit. I did watch the episode as soon as I could, but I was too tired to write anything. (I did finished reading City of Heavenly Fire, though, and I cried a lot. Now I'll start The Infernal Devices saga and I already ship Mark-Emma-Jules, where's the new saga already?) Anyway.

Thanks for the reviews and everything, I love you, guys! And now for the chapter:

EIGHTEEN

"Tonight I'm gonna find a way to make it without you.
I'm gonna hold on to the times we had (…)
And I could find a way to make it, don't hold on too tight,
I'll make it without you tonight."
Alicia Keys

Most times she went to his house. She didn't like to stay at her home because of all the memories, so she tried to avoid it as much as she could. But once in a while, he was the one to come, they'd study in her bed and then they'd make out in her bed and it was always rushed and sloppy and adorable and so, so hot it was like the inside if her thighs were melting.

They'd laugh and the condom would get slippery because Gosh, you're so wet and she'd just tease him with kisses in his neck and ear and she'd tell him Fuck me, already and he'd look at her with those eyes of him like she's just too horny to be handled and that's when he'd finally get the condom on and his hands on her skin curious and careless, his breath on her neck and her nails on his back and her eyes flashing blue and she trying to remember that Stiles can't heal, don't tear his back, be nice and her bed was empty now, it was empty, it had none of his scent, not even in his jacket anymore and godammit, Stiles, God fucking damn it, get the fuck out of my mind, get the fuck out of my skin, stop fucking with my head, I don't want to think about you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to talk about you, you lied to me, I hate you. I hate you.

(no, I don't)

A/N: WHY SO SHORT? I know, I know. I was dying to write Malia's POV on sleeping Stiles-less. Can I have your review? Please? See you soon! x