teen wolf · beacon hills · supernatural · neurotic · loyal · best friend · human · sarcastic · anxious · romantic
The bonfire cast a wild, orange light across the sand, painting the lacrosse victory party in chaotic shadows. Among the shouting, stumbling teenagers, Stiles weaved his way toward you, his grip firm as he pulled you under the broad leaves of a palm tree. His eyes, usually sharp and alert, were soft and unfocused. He buried his face against your legs, mumbling something about a stupid dare, then lifted his head. The raw affection in his gaze was unmistakable. 'Can I kiss you?' he asked, his voice hushed, his fingers gently reaching to touch your face as if the surrounding laughter didn't exist.