invisible string ━━ stiles stilinski ?

14| fleetwood mac

Twisting the key, the machines died down.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

THE DEAD POOL ultimately ended, and yet the hollow feeling in her stomach hasn't gone away. It was over, but at what cost? Over, and yet she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she would never get over all the mysteries she uncovered or all the scars left from the wounds she got from endless battles. Over, and yet with Kate Argent on the loose, it felt like it was only the beginning. "It's over, isn't it?"

"All contacts were terminated." Stiles recited. "So yeah, it's over— no thanks to Meredith."

Juliette walked around his room, her hand tracing over the bullet board. "Well, this doesn't feel like an ending."

"That's because it's not." Stiles restated. "Nothing ever fully ends in Beacon Hills. It just, continues..."

She has never gotten over how much Stiles' room represented him so fittingly. She had once said that stepping into his room felt like stepping into his mind, and still stuck by it. Strolling around the room, she picked up the Luke Skywalker action figure. "I can't believe you're still obsessed with Star Wars, by the way." She snickered, the action figure slipping from her hands and to the floor. "I don't think I can ever watch another second of that movie after you forced me into marathoning the first two. I fell asleep during both— and that's coming from a diagnosed Insomniac."

"Hey, I don't take Star Wars criticism!"

Juliette squatted to the floor to pick up the action figure, but her eye caught a box under his desk. Curiously, she picked it up and showed it to him. "What's this?"

When Stiles saw the wrapped red box in her bands, he instantly got up. "Don't—"

He reached to grab it, but she pulled it away and walked to his bed. "It has my name on it." She stared at the box in wonder, then her eyes flickered to him inquisitively.

"Yeah, well, it was supposed to be a surprise but you kind of ruined it."

Juliette's eyes lit up. "A surprise for what?"

"Your birthday."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "My birthday..." She repeated carefully.

Stiles studied her bewildered facial expression. "It's tomorrow." He reminded her, watching the puzzled expression in her face turn into a surge of realisation. "You forgot?"

"Can I open it?" Juliette lied on top of his mattress's covers, observing the red box with her name on it. She couldn't recall the last time someone bought her a gift, much less wished her a happy birthday. Her birthday would always overlap with a family vacation, one's she would never go on— ultimately, she was never used to birthday's being a big deal, and so she stopped caring for it.

"You know what, I think you shouldn't–" He cut himself off when she became ripping off the wrap paper. "Anddd you're doing it."

Juliette took the wrapping paper off the box, then opened it cautiously. "It's the discography." She stated the obvious, taking it out the box. "Fleetwood Mac." She peered up at him, mouth agape.

      "Yeah," Stiles said with a softness in his voice she was utterly unprepared for, and grabbed the cassette player before placing it beside her. "You've been obsessed with them for as long as i've known you."

      She didn't smile. On the contrary, she looked as if she was about to cry. Popping the tape into the cassette player, the song played on shuffle. "I can't believe you remembered." Her eyes lit up as she gazed at him while heartedly.