Yeah, written in third-person for this chapter, and will be until I reach the time where Stiles had his body-rejecting-himself in the last chapter, because. Yeah.
| A FEW WEEKS PREVIOUS… |
He woke up at a time he is unable to tell you as had he stared outside his window where the sky was completely gray with possible rain clouds unseeingly, not truly registering anything for about five or ten minutes other then that he is awake, however, when he blinked and shook his head a bit as he sat up on his bed he wondered absently if it was going to rain later on because the clouds in the sky completely covered the sun made the morning rather gloomily.
When he finished dressing he went downstairs only to raise a brow at the lack of coffee brewing in the kitchen when he neared the living room, before simply shrugging, hips swaying side to side without his notice as he hummed a song he probably picked up from the radio.
"What should I eat this morning?" He mumbled to himself as he went over to the fridge and opened it to peer in curiously, even though he knows what it contains, and wrinkled his nose when there wasn't anything he really wanted when he that everything that he had seen last night were still in place they were before and nothing new. Not that he really expected anything new. Sighing, Stiles grabbed the bulky block of cheddar cheese from the upper shelf and the carton of white, extra-large eggs whilst snatching the flimsy, thin plastic bags from the bottom drawers. One held fresh red and green peppers and the other equally fresh mushrooms.
He's going to prepare himself a rather delicious, if rather simple, omelet.
Hands full, he closes the refrigerator door with his right foot and turned around towards the counter near the stove. He glances at the time and blinks at the green digital numbers that the clock tells him.
10:22 AM
"Huh," Stiles uttered out. "Thank god it's the weekend, damn."
Then he continues preparing his breakfast as if nothing happened, once again humming to a tune and swaying his hips to it unknowingly, right foot tapping. After he's done cutting up the peppers and mushrooms, he dumps them into the bowl he had whisked the eggs in, and goes on a search hunt for the cheese grater. It takes a few moments, maybe five minutes, before he lets out a triumph laugh ("AH-HAH! Can't defeat the Awesome Stiles, you foul cheese grater!") And then proceeds to demolish a great portion of the cheese into the bowl; after doing so, he whisked it all together before frying it.
Needlessly to say, he had a very nice breakfast that morning, despite the cloudy and sunless morning so far.
It's about two-thirteen in the afternoon when Stiles collapses onto his bed face first, as there's nothing to do; no best friend to bother, and no best friend to bother him. That and because he has a splitting headache that just would not leave while was busy playing an old game that he discovered buried within his closet, Final Fantasy XII, and had to backtrack to the village when it started even though he tried his best to ignore it and just kill the gigantic dinosaur-thing he has to defeat in hopes to level up his peeps, specifically Penolo as she's the weakest out of all them before venturing out gods-know-where.
(He forgot but he refuses to admit that he skipped/ignored the dialogue; but back to the plot,) Stiles groaned as he wiggled around until he was in a blanket cocoon, shivering either though he was quite warm.
'What's wrong with me?' was his last conscious thought before he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
He wasn't even aware he was even in the slightest bit tired.
When he woke up the very next day, the headache hadn't disappeared; if anything, it had only became much more potent.
He had slept through the entire night and the majority of the morning as he had woke up at eleven minutes till noon.