【 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗰𝘆 ━━ 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲 】

𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 ✴ a night at the library
𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 — 𝘄𝗼𝗹𝗳 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻.
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BEACON HILLS IS PART OF THE BIGGER WHOLE THAT IS BEACON COUNTY, a cluster of towns that are wrapped with nature. Living on the far edge meant quiet, fewer neighbours, a beautiful view of the preserve from your bedroom window, and most importantly the town's original library close to my house.

It has beautiful architecture, a reminder of better the times, of Massachusetts. When I was younger and my Mom was still here we would go to the library every week, and stay there for hours, Mom would sit and do some work while I ran around trying to pick books for that week.

Things are different now, I don't go to the library to pick out books anymore. But I do go often to study, the relaxing atmosphere calming me down, and the people around me working makes me want to do so as well, plus the judgemental look that some people give you if you aren't actually studying makes me want to hunker down and get work done.

Not that they really care about my academic performance but still.

Checking the practice test answers, I move happily in my chair as I got all the answers correct, for the second time tonight. Popping a sour patch in my mouth in celebration.

Moving on, I go over the keynotes for the upcoming Latin test scribbling down notes. Hearing the chair next to me being pulled back, I close my eyes already wanting to tell the person that over half the library is empty.

Until I saw the smile on the boy's face. Pulling my earbud out, as Stiles starts unpacking his stuff. "Didn't know you knew where the library was."

"Ha-ha."

Taking out his English syllabus. "Why are you here anyway? Also, how come you are in the same class."

"Don't like me in your class?"

"I love having you."

"You love having me?" I smile. A blush rose to his cheeks as he parts his lips to correct himself, "Don't worry, I will be gone soon. I just have to re-take the AP application tests." I reassure, before he could.

Making his brows crunch up together, "Why?" He asks. Which is a question I still would like a partial answer to. "Because the school is worried my knowledge of the language will hold me back." I tell him, which is what is exactly what Mister Collins told my dad.

"That's..." He tails off, "Bullshit?" I offer. As he nods, he still looks at me in confusion, "Yeah, you are like the smartest person I know."

"I know!" I whisper-shout in agreement. Being rushed by the old man sitting behind the computer. Having both of us look at him back, he turns back to his computer not expecting the staring match.

"Asshole." Stiles mumbled before turning to the syllabus as I look back at my laptop. "Do you understand any of this?" He asks.

Glancing between him and the syllabus, I hum. Ignoring the fact that he is a straight-A student — for the most part — in favour of enjoying his company. "You don't find it hard?" He asks.

Making me shake my head, "I have read most of them already." I say, finding the notes on them before dragging and attaching them to an email. "Look at your email."

Clicking on the mail icon — I try to ignore how cluttered his home screen is with all the files and folders. How he could find anything on there was beyond me. but not my problem — having done so, he sees the notes on almost all of the books that will be discussed, making a small smile pull up his lips. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, when I win I want to win fair and square."

"What makes you think you will win?"

"I will be in AP and honours next semester and that counts for like two points extra on every test." I say, turning back to the mock exam in front of me.

Staying silent for a moment, he starts to shake his head, "That is not true." Stiles denies. Shrugging, I don't take my eyes off the paper as I dot down the next answer, "It helps with my GPA more."

"Okay, but we aren't competing on GPA."

"Obviously."

"I could if I wanted to."

Humming unconvinced, I glance at the boy before turning the page, "Of course you could." I tell him. Not noticing his eye twitch at the tone, "Are you being sarcastic?"

Taking a pause, I rest my face in my hand. Turning to look at him instead of the paper. "You are too smart for that." I deny, smiling softly at the boy.

"Okay, you are definitely being sarcastic."

"You are a very smart boy, Mieczyslaw." I say, patting his shoulder.

Looking down for a second, he stays quiet, making my brows furrow for what he will say next. "You have sandals on?" He says, glancing down with him he is straight on staring at them.

Covering one foot with the other, a sudden feeling of embarrassment hits me as I hadn't painted my toes or even thought about anyone looking at them. "Don't stare at my toes, perv." I snap, trying to hide them under the chair.

"I wasn't staring you just have nice shoes."

"There is barely a shoe, it is mostly my feet. You sick bastard, do you have some feet fetish?"

Having wide eyes, staring back at me he shakes his head vigorously, "No!" He denies loudly, being shushed by the same man. "Oh, shush yourself, we all know what you do on that computer." He whispers-yells at the men.

Making me snore at the annoyed expression on his face. Trying to press it down, I try to frown at him, not being able to hide the smile. "So, it is toes, huh? You fantasize about sucking toes." I ask him.

"God, no, ew! Do you?"

"No, and I wasn't looking at your feet, why are you even looking down? Have you never learned that you should continue eye contact?"

"No, I look away. I hate strong eye contact."

"You aren't avoiding mine."

"That is because you are totally into all of this, and I want you to know, that I know, you totally want me." He says, smiling back just as big.

"Oh, my God. You caught me, Stilinski. I want you so bad."

"Yeah, I do have that effect."

"I bet you do." I hum. Pocking his cheek, neck, nose, and all over. "Why have you not exercised that effect on people yet, Mr I-Have-Never-Had-A-Girlfriend?" I ask as he holds my hand to stop.

"I am a nice guy."

"Nice guys never say they are nice guys."

"I am just waiting."

"For the one?"

"Yeah." He nods, intertwining our fingers. Looking down at them, I crunch my nose. "Ew." I say, sticking my tongue out.

"Don't worry, I know when you are lying, you have a tell."

"I don't have a tell." I deny. Looking at me, a small smile tucks up his lips. Seemingly happy that he showed my tell again, "Yeah, you do." He confirms.

"I do not."

"You do, and you so want me so bad, it is kinda getting desperate."

"Desperate, me?"

Closing his mail, he accidentally opens the Internet, or I think by accident. As my eyes are still on the screen, there are a hundred different tabs open with various research on wolves and other mythological creators. "If this is your attempt at writing then I would suggest vampires." I tell him, having fallen into the research hole myself and would have loved that piece of advice.

"Huh?"

Pointing at it, his cheeks flush — in that cute manner, they always do — as he slaps it close. "Oh, no, no, no. I wasn't." He denies quickly, "just trying to explain the plot of Teen Wolf to Scott."

"He has never seen it?"

"He never wants to watch it."

"I mean, I get it, I'm more of a vampire girl myself."

"Really?" Stiles asks. Making me nod, "I mean the age gaps are always a little weird but it's kinda hot." I shrug.

"He is like a thousand years old why is he in high school? Can't they find a college or after-college person?" He asks. It makes me hum, never really thinking about it like that, "Fair point. They probably should, they are basically grannies at this point.

"Don't older people find old people hot? It works like that right?" He asks. "I hope so." I blink, "If I see old men when I'm old, the same way I see them now." I mumble, shaking out my back.

"Internet?" He offers, opening his laptop again, he types the question into Bing. I try not to judge too hard but Bing is the worst search engine ever.

'Guys like women in their early twenties regardless of how old they are.' The infographic next to it backs it up, men go for women younger regardless of age, while women go for men generally around their age.

"Huh." We say in unison at the information presented to us. "So men are perverts." I say, drawing my own conclusion based on what was shown. "I don't think that is what it means." Stiles denies.

"I definitely think that is what it means."

"How?"

"Why would a man be in his eighties still looking at a twenty-year-old? What do they even have in common?"

"They both like the heat and holidays?"

"And so does most of the world." I say, making him slowly nod. Before nodding faster, "Okay, maybe men are a little gross." He agrees.

"A little?" I ask.

"A little-a-lot." He offers. Smiling sweetly, looking back at the screen I hum. "I can work with that." I nod, "Anyways... if you ever want to get Scott into werewolf media show him Wolfblood, it's a good show." I offer. Humming, he writes it down quickly, "Or just go out looking for wolves." I joke.

"Wolfs haven't been in California for like sixty years." He says, which was weirdly specific. He had definitely looked it up. "True, but wolfs are highly migraine, something could have drawn them here."

"Are you a believer?" He asks.

"Of wolves? Yes."

"No, I mean like..." He starts, looking around before leaning closer. Like he was about to tell me a secret, "Werewolves?" He whispers.

Making me shake my head, "No, but in middle school I used to be obsessed with Twilight, especially Jacob." I tell him. Humming, I move his laptop to find a website he would love, "And there is this doctor; his real name is Conrad Haberlind."

Glancing at the boy, he nods for me to continue, "But he changed it to Fenrir but now often going by Fenris."

"Are you serious?"

I look, at the blank look on his face making sure he has no clue what the reference means. Sighing, I type the name in on Bing having the giant wolf, son of Loki, pop up. Making his lips part as he sits up straighter, "He changed his name to a big wolf." Stiles mumbles in realisation.

"He made all these theories about the differences of lycanthropy of the mind and the actual phenomena of being a werewolf."

The men's website popped up, "Ruined his career, many of the videos people are laughing at him." I tell him. Scrolling through his videos list, "I don't know if it's true, but it is a lot of fun."

"Yeah, thank you." He smiles. "Yeah, of course. He works at Eichen house now if you are interested." I shrug

"How did you even find this guy?"

Blinking at the sudden question, I try to quickly think of a way to answer him without telling him anything, "Uh... my dad." I nodded, that sounded convincing. "He met him at one of the readings, events, thingies, he talked about all this stuff and my dad thought I might like it." I tell him.

Making him nod, it made sense, after all my dad is a doctor and in a town as small as Beacon Hills there aren't that many so the ones that are here do talk to each other.

Watching him save the webpage, I clear my throat, "So... just trying to do research for Scott?" I try to fish as well as changing the topic, "Or into writing... or mythology or something?" I ask.

"Just reading... You?"

"I think it is fun to think about the imaginable. Vampires, ancient diets, mythology, all that."

"Have a current favourite?"

Standing up, I nod, starting to walk to the mythology aisle. Glancing back, he is still seated, just looking. "Come on." I say, beaconing him to follow.

Standing up, he quickly makes his way to me. Moving through the aisles, stepping so close he almost stands on the back of my heels. "Where are we going?"

Turning between the aisles, I can feel him hold on to the back of my shirt. Pulling his wrist to let go, I hold on to that instead. To pull him along, opening the baby gate in front of the staircase.

"We are almost there."

"Which is where exactly?"

Taking the small stairs, two at a time. We squeeze our way through the aisle, which is not quiet big enough for two teenagers to stand next to each other, or accessible for anyone with a disability.

Glancing over shelving, "A, b, c, d, e—." I mumble to find where on the shelving the book is. Finding it on the higher shelf I smile. "Here."

Letting go of his wrist, I take a step to stand in front of him. Moving to stand on the point of my toes, I try to reach the book but can only brush my fingers against the spine. Mentally cursing the librarian for putting it up so high without having a step ladder available.

Before I could even ask, Stiles pulls the book to the edge of the shelf so I can grab it. Pulling it off, I hold it to my chest, "Thanks." I say softly.

"Yeah."

A cleaning of a throat, we both look up, "Excuse me." The man says, moving his hand to show that we should. Taking a step closer, he squeezes passed Stiles to the end of the aisle.

Looking back at each other, we look confused before laughing. Moving along the aisle, we make our way back to the table, I trail my fingers over the books. Stopping at my childhood favourite. "Oh, Narnia is back." I say.

"It was your favourite, right?"

"It is so good." I say, glancing at the boy. "Have you ever read it?" I ask. Making him nod, "I have, but my favourite was," He starts, "the big friendly giant." We say in unison.

"Yeah." He smiled, I like it when he smiles. Nodding, I look down at the book in my arms, "You did a book report on it, in middle school."

"I did." He nods, astounded that the girl even remembered that. Hearing a throat clear, we both sigh before looking at the same guy from before. "Dude, just go the other way," Stiles tells him, groaning at his words he does.

"He was weird, right?"

"Definitely." I nod, moving to make our way back again. Trying to ignore the guy and what he is watching on the computer. Placing the book down, we take our seats again; "Daemonologie." Stiles reads the title out loud.

Humming, I open the books getting distracted by the beautiful drawings. Looking over the pictures, I can feel a set of eyes burning into my cheek. Glancing up my eyes connect with beautiful hazel eyes instantly.

Tilting his chin down, he now looks at the same page. "The wild hunt?" He reads out loud. "Do you believe?"

"There are so many towns that look abandoned. Like the people who lived there literally vanished." I tell him, turning to the next page that has a picture of such a town.

Even though the picture was in colour it still looked drape and lifeless. "I think people want explanations to things that don't have any." I say softly.

"Like people on horses?"

"Like memory loss."

Making him nod, holding onto my hand to turn the page again, "That makes sense." He mumbles. Looking at the sad faces drawn on the next page, "It does look freaking depressing."

Humming, I nod. "I can imagine forgetting your loved ones would be." I say, knowing I am always afraid of forgetting my mother.

"It is painful for the people around you as well." He says softly, his sadden expression a stark difference to his smile from before, "Do they remember them in the end?" He asks.

Paging through the book to the ending, I shake my head, "If you know them well enough, you remember and they come back."

"Does that always happen?"

"I don't know."

"But like it happens often, right?"

"They do this thing where they bring back people that have died as a distraction for the ones you don't remember." Pointing at the drawing of the dark and death omen in a vibrant and warm setting. Seeing the new picture, he stares at it for a while before averting his eyes, "Do you also have something more fun?" He asks.

"Narnia. That is always fun." I offer, "Re-read it, it is like falling in love."

Okay."

A loud bell noise, sounds through the library. "This is the last call, it is five minutes before eleven, and we will be closing. If all guests could please proceed to the exit."

"Damn, it is already so late." I mumble, glancing at my watch that says the same thing. "Time flies." He agreed.

Starting to pack up, we both shove everything in our bags. "Very informative, I studied a lot." He tells me, which was definitely a lie. Nodding, I snore at him almost tripping over the chair. Holding my arm out for him, I nod, "Yeah, me too. Definitely should do again."

"Definitely." He agrees.

Moving out of the building, I wave at one of the librarians, which is not Miss Smith. "Bye." I wave, at the older man behind the desk.

"So..." Stiles trails off. Making me glance at the boy as we stop at my bike, "do you want a ride home?"

"I have my bike, so..." I trail off. "Can't you just leave it here?" He asks.

Making me stare at the boy, "No." I deny fast, before clearing my throat at how rude it sounded, "I don't want to leave it here overnight." I correct.

"You were planning to bike in the dark?"

"No, I was going to take the bus."

"I have a hook on the back of my car, we can tie it up." He offers. Looking at him hesitantly, he smiles softly, "It is secure, my dad used it all the time." He reassures.

Nodding slowly, I pull my bike out of the rack, "Okay," I say softly, "thank you."

"Yeah, of course, don't worry."

Holding his hands out, I let him take the bike to ride it to his car. Moving to stand at the back of his car, kicking the bicycle stand he moves to get in his car as I lock my bike.

Trying to pull it up the ledge on the back of his Jeep, Stiles moves to take the bike from my hands just as quick as he left, "I got, I got it." He reassures, holding the bike with one hand as he places the bands to hold said bike on the roof of his car.

Standing with him, I watch as he carefully ties the bike with a gentle hand like it is the most valuable thing in the world, which to me it was. Also realizing I shouldn't have doubted him so much as he was just getting the lock bands. "You can go in, you know." He tells me, glancing up from his low position.

Causing me to shake my head as I wrap my arms around myself, "Just keeping you company." I reassure.

"You sure it is just that?"

"Why else?"

"To make sure I am tying your bike right."

"Maybe that a little too."

Having the bike officially tied to the car, he shakes it to make sure. "Okay, we got it all locked and ready." He tells me. Moving to the passenger door, we both reached for the door, "Oh, I got it." I reassure him, but he opens it anyway.

"Thank you."

Closing the door, I can see him taking deep breaths through the rear-view mirror. Ignoring his personal moment. I looked around the car interior, it was a pretty blue. Has a set of white dice hanging of the rearview mirror and man different CDs but other than that nothing that screams Stiles.

Opening the car, he takes his seat. "Okay, seatbelts." He says, nodding I put my seatbelt on. "Music? Do you want the aux, any preferences?" He continues to ask.

"I'm okay, I'm good with whatever you want." I tell him. Nodding, he turns the engine on deciding that no music is better than the CD that was already in there, "So... you have any plans tomorrow?" Stiles asks.

Making me glance at him and the sudden awkwardness. "Yeah." I nod. Looking at the road again, and how he knew the way to my house without any word. "Oh, what?"

"Going to school." I say confused, "You?"

"Yeah, same."

Making me snore, at the way he nods, "Why are you being so awkward?" I ask. Glancing at me, he shakes his head, "I'm not being awkward." He denies it, racing a brow at him, he starts nodding, "Okay maybe I am being a little awkward."

"Okay, maybe, we should just put music on. That always helps." I offer. Pressing for the CD to start, "No, don't." Stiles says, trying to pause the song before it even started. Having Britney Spears blare out of the stereo, "Shit, shit, shit." He curses, giggling softly at his frustration I pull his hand away to pause it.

"I swear, I listen to better music."

"I love Britney."

"You do?" He asks. Making me nod, "The Spears-Timberlake conflict and the video clip references were my life! Ly— my friend and I would watch those clips and interviews on repeat." I tell him.

"Cry me a river, right? It was the girl in the hat."

"The beret and yes. It was her!" I gasp. "Totally." He agrees.

"He is like obsessed with her."

"I think he just really liked her and she broke his heart."

"And he exposed her on life TV."

"True." He nods. Arriving in front of my house, I open my bag to fish my keys out, "Also, to come back to it. I know you like me more." I say absent mindlessly.

"Huh?"

"We went to middle school together, and a bit of elementary school, Mischief." I remind him. Making him nod, "All of this coincidental running into each other would have worked if I didn't know you live on Woodbine." I tell him, as he nods again, "Making the McKinnon Library closer."

"Uhhh..."

"Meaning you drove around 20 miles out of your way to catch a glimpse of little ole' me." I pout. "It's adorable." I say, mimicking the nose crunch he did to me, patting his hand. "Also you still remember where my house is."

Getting out, I wave as he still looks stunned. Moving to get my bike off of his car, he moves out to help me. "Oh, I got it." He reassures, gently getting my bike off.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, anytime." He nods. Taking the bike from him, his fingers brush mine, clearing my throat, I move my bike away from him and to the garage door.

"Tabitha."

Looking back at the boy, he looks worried at the dark house, "Be safe." He tells me. Making me smile at him, "I got Harry." I reassure, clicking on the button on my keys the garage door slides open revealing the black cat already standing ready.

Causing the boy to chuckle softly. Having Harry hobble to me, he moves to rub my leg before gently licking it. As Stiles moves closer holding his hand out for the cat, Harry hisses at him making him quickly step back. "I don't think he likes me."

"He needs time to warm up to people."

Riding my bike into the garage, I kick the stance for my bike. Before turning back to the boy, "Get home save, okay?" I tell him. Making him nod, "I will." He tells me.

Waiting to watch him get into the car, he just looks back at me. "Are you going to go to your car?" I ask. Having his eyes widen, he starts nodding, before walking backwards to his car, "Right! Yes, yes, I will." He says, bumping into the vehicle.

Chuckling softly at the act, I move to the door that leads to the kitchen. "Goodnight, Miesczyslaw." I wave. Waving back, he leans on the open door of his car. "Goodnight, Tabitha."

Entering the kitchen I glance through the window to see him still in the driveway. Wave from the window with Harry in my arms, he waves back as he starts the ending. Waving back one more time, he backs out of the driveway before officially leaving.

Not being able to leave as easily is the sudden warmth in my chest of him making sure I actually got in save before he left, but that is something that was buried deep and to never be revisited. No matter how sweet or attentive he had been.

✴

UN-EDITED
WORD COUNT: 4293

authors note
hi, hi! hope y'all loved this wholesome #hilinski moment!

honestly been struggling writing this season because i know the hurt that will come in the following acts/seasons and it just makes me sad but that might be a personal projection.

ANYHOW! you can expect the next chapter a little faster ( but not too fast as i have exams but in november i finally have more time so i'm waiting for that! )

ALSO, ALSO, this has nothing to do with this chapter specifically BUT i wanted y'alls opinion on whom to cast as jenna ( liam's mom ) as she will be a supporting character throughout the entirety of the story and i wanted a clear vision of her.

i'm leaning towards brianne howet aka georgia miller as jenna is a confident attorney/go-getter and rachel mcadams just gives me more soft mom vibes, but then again she is THE mean girl regina george herself so... let me know your thoughts!

if you lean one way more than the other, or have a completely different person in mind ( as they didn't cast a mother for him ).