Scott fell asleep on my bed, his phone gripped loosely in his hand. That kid had a serious case of obsession with Flappy Bird and had fallen asleep trying to beat his all-time high score of 4. I honestly thought about taking his phone and just getting it up to 5 and sliding it back into his hand so that he'd think he beat his high score while drifting off, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't willing to cause myself to get addicted to the stupid game, and end up scoring way higher than Scott ever could; he wouldn't believe he got to 86 while falling asleep, now would he?
After I finished reading over the SparkNotes for Lord of the Flies and spoiling the ending for myself (spoiler: Piggy dies and Jack is batshit crazy), I shut my laptop and gently set it on the floor. I reached over Scott and took the phone from his hand, setting it on my bedside table. I crawled off my bed as quickly as I could, hoping I wouldn't wake Scott up by moving around too much, and went to the closet, pulling open the sliding door. I reached on my tiptoes and took my spare blanket from the top shelf, tossing it over Scott so he wouldn't get cold. I didn't have the heart to wake him up and tell him to go to his own bed or crawl into mine, or just to lay on my bed in a reasonable manor and not with his feet all over my pillow. I made my way back to the side of my bed that wasn't currently being occupied by a comatose werewolf, peeling up the comforter and sliding underneath it, pulling my pillow out from under Scott's feet and flipping it over. Hopefully it wouldn't hold the scent of his feet. Trust me, they smelled gross. I flicked off the lamp, and the room was plunged into darkness.
I stared at the ceiling in the darkness for a while. There was so much to think about, with Mason trying to make me a part of his pack and all; was he really going to kill my pack or was he just bluffing, what happens if he actually does, what can I do about it, but most importantly, should I tell Scott about it? I instantly shoved the thought away. I could deal with this, this was my problem – not his.
I fell asleep fighting away the lingering images of Mason and Scott's bloody body from earlier this afternoon, which only made the scenario make multiple guest appearances in my dreams. Fantastic. But was it better than one of my "regular" nightmares? Not even close.
.
I woke up to the smell of bacon, the scent wafting through the house like a meat-filled breeze. Scott was no longer on my bed, which I registered when I stretched out my legs and did not kick him in the face. I glanced at my alarm clock; it was around 10:30 a.m. What a surprising amount of sleep I had gotten, with absolutely no interruptions. Well, unless you counted bad dreams as an interruption; then there definitely were a few.
I went down to the kitchen to find the missing werewolf at the stove, cooking bacon. If he heard me come down, he didn't make note of it. I stole a piece from the plate he was shoving the greasy goodness onto, and stole at the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"I don't think I've seen you make anything that wasn't a hot pocket, frozen pizzas, or mac and cheese," I said, munching on my piece of perfectly cooked bacon; not too crunchy, but not too soft either. Scott McCall was a master at making bacon, something I had not known until this very moment.
"I make other food than just hot pockets and frozen pizzas," he said, tossing a smile over his shoulder. "Exhibit A." He picked up the plate as he turned off the stove, bringing it over to where I was sitting. Just then, the toaster popped up, displaying two toaster waffles.
"Yeah, you make toaster waffles too," I said, sneaking another piece of bacon off the plate while he fetched the waffles from the toaster.
"Shut up," he said with a smile, setting a plate with the waffles on it in front of me, along with a bottle of maple syrup. "Eat up," he said as he put two more waffles into the toaster. I applied a generous amount of syrup to my waffles and began to eat, realizing how hungry I actually was. It was probably the smell, the wonderful, syrupy-bacony smell that made me so hungry. I used the rest of the syrup that remained on my plate to dip some bacon in, which is a complete match made in heaven.
"Go get dressed," Scott said as soon as I had shoved the last bit of syrup-covered bacon into my mouth, but it sounded more like an order. If an oversized, dimple-cheeked puppy who had a mouth full of waffles could give orders. I just shrugged, putting my plate and fork into the sink before going back up the stairs, the alpha following shortly after.
.
"The park?" I asked, taking off my helmet and handing it to Scott.
"Yeah, I thought we could go for a walk, swing on the swing set, whatever," he said, shrugging.
"Like date stuff?"
"Yeah, I guess like date stuff," he said, shuffling his feet slightly.
"Then lets walk," I said with a smile as I took his hand and pulled him along the sidewalk.
We ended up walking for a little bit, then ditched the walking to play on a merry-go-round, which we almost broke. Lets just say that you shouldn't let two werewolves see who can spin it the fastest, then jump on. They leave dents and bend the metal bars a little out of shape. We ran around on the small playground set, and Scott actually got stuck on one of the slides, causing a complete hold up of the the system of kids sliding then running back up the stairs to do it again. I was laughing the whole time I tried to help him out, and by the time he was free of the clutches of the slide, there was at least a seven-kid hold up. Eventually we ended on the swings, and I almost convinced him to get into one of the baby swings, but he learned his lesson with the slide, knowing damn well we'd have to call the fire department to get him out.
.
"Who are you texting?" I asked, swinging sideways over to Scott to elbow him in the arm.
"Uh, no one," Scott said, quickly shoving his phone back into his pocket. I squinted at him.
"That was a terrible excuse and you know it."
"Okay, fine. I was texting Stiles to see if he could bring over Isaac and some movies later, so we could have an official 'hurray that Natalie King didn't die in the hospital like everyone though she was going to' celebration, which Stiles named, by the way."
"Wow, cynical, but totally Stiles."
. . . . .
"I thought you said Stiles and Isaac were coming over?" I said as I caught the helmet that Scott tossed me.
"Did I say they were coming over? No, we're going over there. I must of told you the wrong thing," he said with a slightly confused look on his face before he pulled on his helmet. I just rolled my eyes before pulling on my helmet and getting on the motorbike behind him.
We pulled up to a clearing, to the cliff that overlooked Beacon Hills.
"I thought you said we were going to Stiles' house," I said as I pulled off my helmet. Scott looked back at me, taking off his own helmet.
"Stiles' house? What are you talking about?" I could see he was trying to keep a straight face, but I could see a smile peaking out. A wave of realization hit me like a truck.
"Scott McCall, you dirty liar."
"I had to, though," he said, grabbing my hands, his bright-beam smile on full blast. "For a surprise. Close your eyes." I just sighed and closed my eyes, unable to stay made at the precious little puppy that was Scott McCall, and he began dragging me into the woods.
"This better be a good surprise," I muttered as he guided me to a mystery spot.
We stopped and he said, "you can open your eyes now." I opened my eyes, to see a blanket spread out on the ground, with Isaac and Stiles standing nearby, the latter who looked particularly proud.
"Surprise!" Stiles said, motioning to the blanket. "An actual date, courtesy of Scott McCall, assisted by Isaac Lahey and the ever-handsome Stiles Stilinski, who -"
"- should be going now," said Scott, making a jerking motion with his head, towards a dirt path, but the pair stayed. I took a step towards the blanket, just now noticing the flickering lights. Hard to see, actually, since it was till bright out.
"Candles, really?" I asked, pointing to one of the small candles that had been shoved into the dirt near the blanket, which was a complete fire hazard.
"That was my idea," Stiles piped up. "I wanted to sprinkle some rose petals, too-" he glared at Isaac, "-but Isaac wouldn't let me."
Isaac just rolled his eyes, giving Stiles a push towards the path.
"We'll be going now," Isaac said, now full out pushing Stiles down the dirt path.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Stiles yelled, almost out of sight.
"Well, this date is off to a great start," Scott said, completely sarcastic.
"No, it's perfectly fine."
"Except for they forgot to leave the picnic basket," he sighed.
"Really?"
"Don't move, I'll be right back - well, actually, you can sit down. I'm not stopping you - uh, just - yeah. Be right back," he said as be took a few steps back, then taking off running down the path when he finished. I walked leisurely up to the blanket, taking a seat on the edge of it. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Stiles had shoved a condom under the blanket at this point, because it seemed like the thing he would do, and there was a completely opportune moment for me to find it while I was alone.
Scott came back quickly, grinning as he came over to the blanket with an oversized picnic basket.
"So what will we be dining on tonight?" Scott just let out a sigh as he opened the basket, then pulled a fast food bag out of the wicker basket.
"This was supposed to be romantic," he groaned.
"Don't worry, nothing says romance like curly fries."
.
We laced fingers and laid down on the blanket, looking up at the sky that was now spotted with stars. Eating had taken longer than I had expected, considering the amount of jokes and attempts at tossing curly fries into one another's mouths that had occurred.
"I think that one's the big dipper," Scott said, pointing up at a cluster of stars.
"I think that might be the little dipper," I said, tilting my head sideways. "I could be wrong though. I've never actually been stargazing before."
"What? You've never been stargazing?"
"I mean, my mom always said she'd take me, but she was always busy. Going out of town, meetings, working overtime. And then I got sick. Really sick."
"Well, now you have."
"Thanks," I said, squeezing his hand. "For this and for the date, even though it was a completely disaster."
"You're welcome," he said, moving his head over to give me a kiss.