Chapter 6

Unfortunately, he remembered every detail. The way her fear had tasted sweet on his tongue, the panicked look of terror in her eyes, the sound her tiny heels made as she tried to run from him. The memories ate at him every day and the last thing he wanted to talk about was Eichen House.

"Why? What is this about?" He ask trying to catch her glance.

She was zoned out, her eyes staring off in the distance. Her red lips parted and her chin trembled, "What were you going to do to me Stiles?" She ask, her voice barley a whisper.

He watched as tears filled her eyes. He couldn't take this, all this pain was his fault. He didn't want to tell her what he remembered. The Nogitsune had found her fear to be arousing, and wanted to use his body to claim her. He was thankful that it never went that far. He smoothed a hands across her back and was pleased when she finally looked at him.

"That was not me, you know I would never do anything to hurt you. "

He wondered if she would ever be able to see him the way he was before. He placed his hands on both sides of her face and slid his tongue across her bottom lip. He wrapped his hands around her, and pulled her closer. Lydia's mom cleared her throat loudly, snapping the teens out of their moment. Lydia's face was red, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Stiles sat up and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He could feel the older woman's eyes on him, but he refused to look at her.

"What? Don't you have somewhere to be?" Lydia ask giving her mother a look.

"So, what is this?" Natalie said giving them both a suggestive look.

Lydia rose from the couch and motioned for Stiles to follow her. She didn't want to explain herself. Since when did her mother care so much about her love life?

"We are going to be late for school mom, have a good day at work."

She rushed out the door and smiled when she saw his blue Jeep parked in the drive way. She loved riding in that jeep. It wasn't fancy, or even clean but he took good care of the vehicle and it was in great condition. He led her over to the passenger side and opened the door for her. He made her feel like a princess, and she loved it.

Stiles started the Jeep. He backed out of the drive way and onto the highway. She stuck her hand out the window and let the spring air swirl through her fingers. He was unusally quiet, and she wondered what he was thinking about. She watched him closely as he drove. Her eyes traced over the perfect shape of his lips, and she counted ever freckle on his face. She rose her hand to his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. Everything about him was perfect. She was confused and still grieving, but this made her feel better. She was happy just being next to him. He always made her feel better. Maybe she loved him too.

Stiles pulled into the school parking lot and searched for a parking spot. They were twenty minets late and almost all of the parking spots were taken. There were so many things he would rather be doing. If he had it his way, the two would be spending the day together; exploring their newly found relationship. He finally found a spot to park, and got out to open her door.

"Miss Martin," he said, reaching for her hand.

She put her hand in his, and he watched in awe as she slowly climbed out of the vehicle. The navy blue dress she wore had inched up her thigh, exposing even more of her cream colored skin. She was driving him crazy. He clenched his jaw, grabbed his back pack from behind the seat, and slung it over his shoulder. She hung her arm around his hips and they walked into Beacon Hills High School together.

She only had one class with Stiles. It was History and it was her favorite subject. He sat a few rows behind her and she could feel his eyes on her. The new History teacher Mr. Miles was standing in the front if the chalk board scribbling notes about the civil war. There would be a test over the material on Monday, and she should have been paying more attention. She was too distracted to focus. She drew lazy circles on her notepad. Her mind wondered off into a place she didn't want to be. Voices filled her head with warnings. They told her not to trust him. She felt a sharp pain shoot up her head. Her eye lids were heavy and she felt herself fading out. She dropped the pencil and her head involuntarily slammed down on the desk. Blood trickled down her nose and onto the white page of notebook paper.

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