章節 8: A Full Course Meal
Chapter 8: A full course meal
As Derek sprinted after Jackson—now the kanima, probably ready to rip him to shreds—Stiles yanked Hope into the Jeep with Scott, leaving Allison to chauffeur Lydia home.
"I'm calling shotgun if you're dragging me into this," Hope declared, folding her arms with a defiant grin.
Scott, who had been halfway into the front seat, sighed dramatically and climbed into the back. "Fine, fine. Have it your way."
Hope smirked victoriously as she slid into the front seat.
Stiles started the engine with a flourish, gripping the wheel like it was his grand moment in an action movie.
"You could be a professional racer if you had a proper race car," Hope said, impressed by his sudden focus.
"Roscoe is better than any race car out there," Stiles said, patting the dashboard like it was a beloved pet. "She's got character."
Hope snorted. "She's got duct tape holding her together."
"And character," Stiles emphasized, pretending to be deeply offended as he sped through the streets.
Hope leaned back, thoroughly enjoying the ride, while Scott fidgeted in the back, his worry for Jackson radiating like an annoying mosquito.
When they reached the alley, Stiles parked the Jeep with a screech, the tires kicking up a little dust. "What do we do now?" he asked, glancing at Scott.
But Scott was already gone, vaulting over a fence like he was auditioning for an Olympic track team.
Stiles turned to Hope, bewildered. "You're not going after him?"
"Do you want me to go?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning casually against the door.
Stiles instinctively shook his head no but then immediately started rambling. "No—I mean, yes—I mean, maybe they need your help? But also, it's fine if you don't want to. Totally your choice! I'm not pressuring you—"
Hope burst out laughing, the sound filling the Jeep. Stiles flushed, trying not to stare at her, but failing miserably.
"They don't need my help yet," she said finally, her voice soft as she reached out to pat his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll stay right here to protect you."
Stiles puffed up his chest. "I don't need protecting. I'm perfectly capable of—"
"Oh, I know, Stilinski," Hope interrupted, smirking. "You've got the brains, I've got the strength. Aren't we just perfect together?" She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling as her hand brushed his jaw.
Stiles froze. His brain short-circuited. Was he breathing? Probably not.
The moment was interrupted by a ping sound of notification from Hope's phone. She pulled it out, and Stiles caught a glimpse of Lydia's name on the screen. That tight, uncomfortable feeling crept into his chest again.
---
Lydia: Reached home. Allison still won't tell me their secret. Asking me to keep their relationship a secret like I fucking care.
Lydia: I thought she was my best friend. Guess not.
Hope: I thought I was your best friend?
Lydia: You're my sidekick! You need to work harder to earn that title.
Hope: That's not fair. I want justice.
Lydia: Busy. Prada wants to go for a walk.
Hope: This late? Is your dog okay in the head?
—
Hope waited for a reply but didn't get one. She sighed, tucking her phone away. "This bitch…" she muttered, shaking her head as she got out of the Jeep.
Stiles followed her, clenching his jaw. The thought nagged at him until it spilled out. "Are you dating Lydia?"
Hope stopped, blinked, and turned to him. The silence stretched. Stiles wished he could dig a hole and crawl into it.
Then to his surprise, Hope burst into laughter so hard she had to clutch her stomach. "Oh my God, no! If I liked girls, maybe, but unfortunately, I'm straighter than Derek's 'brooding and mysterious' act."
Stiles let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "So… what's your type?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"A normal human being," she began, her tone light. "With hands and legs, two eyes, one nose, and lips…" She paused dramatically, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Oh, and a masculine body with six-pack abs."
She smirked as she walked ahead, while Stiles glanced down at his skinny frame with a resigned sigh. He didn't even stand a chance."I'm a gym enthusiast, you know," he blurted. "I love working out. It's—uh—kind of my thing."
"I don't believe you, Stilinski" Hope said flatly, her smirk growing.
"Even Derek wants to take lessons from me!" Stiles argued. "People just need time to realize how strong I am. If you want, I could show you—I'm a full-course meal."
Hope stopped abruptly, turning to stare at him with an unreadable expression. Stiles gulped, his face growing hotter by the second.
"If you're such a full-course meal," Hope teased, stepping closer, "go ahead. Start stripping. Show me."
Stiles turned beet red. "W-well, you know—Scott! Yeah, Scott! We should—uh—go find him!" He turned and walked off—in the wrong direction.
Hope grabbed his collar and tugged him back, laughing. "Wrong way, genius."
"Thanks," he mumbled, speeding up to avoid her knowing grin.
Hope followed at a leisurely pace, her smirk softening into a fond smile. Stiles was fun to mess with, and she couldn't help but feel a little more at home when he was around.
Stiles Stilinski was the best kind of entertainment, and she wasn't done teasing him yet.
They continued to walk through the seemingly empty area, Hope scanning her surroundings as she tried to locate the bar from her fragmented memory. Though she knew where Scott was, she didn't know the exact route. Luckily, her search ended when she spotted Scott peeking at the entrance of the bar from the back of the building like a sketchy teenager sneaking into a club. Completely oblivious to their presence, he looked like a guilty raccoon caught rummaging through trash.
Stiles strolled over and grabbed Scott's arm, startling both of them into a synchronized yelp.
"AH!" Scott spun around, eyes wide like he'd seen a ghost.
Stiles sucked in a breath. "Sorry, sorry! Did you see where he went?"
"No, I lost him," Scott muttered, glancing back around the corner like it would somehow change the outcome.
Stiles stared at him in disbelief. "What? You couldn't catch his scent?"
"I don't think he has one," Scott admitted, looking mildly embarrassed.
"Do you have any clue where he's going?" Stiles asked, scanning the area. Hope stood nearby, silently observing and processing the chaos like it was her favorite drama series.
'Looks like we're going clubbing,' she thought, a small grin tugging at her lips. After all, this was her first time going to a club in two lifetimes, even if it involved chasing a homicidal lizard.
"To kill someone," Scott deadpanned, pulling Hope from her musings.
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Ah. That explains the claws, the fangs, and all that. Makes perfect sense now."
Scott shot him a look of pure irritation.
"What? Scott, come on," Stiles defended, throwing up his hands. "I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, okay? Sarcasm is my only defense."
Hope bit her lip to stifle a laugh as her eyes locked onto Stiles, who caught her amused expression.
"Though I love working out. Like, a lot," he added earnestly, hoping his best friend would back him up.
Hope smirked but said nothing, while Scott gave Stiles a look that screamed 'bullshit.'
'God, I want a divorce from this friendship,' Stiles thought miserably.
"Just help me find it," Scott said, clearly trying to ignore the nonsense.
"Not it. Jackson," Stiles corrected, exasperated.
"And does he know that?" Stiles asked, gesturing vaguely. "Did anybody else see him back at your house?"
'People around here are either blind to the supernatural or just don't care,' Hope thought. 'Honestly, if it's the latter, they might be onto something.'
Scott shrugged. "I mean, I don't think so, but he already passed Derek's test anyway."
"Yeah, and that's the thing. How did he pass the test?" Stiles said, throwing his hands up.
"I don't know," Scott replied, equally frustrated.
"What do you think?" Both of them turned to Hope like students hoping the teacher would give them the answers to an impossible test.
"Figure it out yourselves," Hope said with a shrug, her tone making it clear she was enjoying their struggle a little too much.
Stiles sighed dramatically. Hate her all you want, but she keeps a grudge. She won't help until someone's actually dying.
"Maybe it's like an either-or thing?" Stiles suggested, pacing. "Derek said that a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right? So, when's the Kanima not the Kanima?"
"When it's Jackson," Scott muttered, his expression lighting up with realization.
'Finally,' Hope thought. 'It only took him an hour.'
"Uh… dude," Stiles said, gripping Hope's hand instinctively.
Hope's heart fluttered at the unexpected gesture, her gaze dropping to their intertwined hands. 'Oh no, this is definitely going on my list of "Things to Overanalyze at 3 AM."'
Scott's attention shifted upward as Stiles pointed to the top of the building, where the Kanima's tail slipped through an opening.
"He's going inside," Scott said.
"Do lizards enjoy clubbing?" Hope muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Because if so, I'm seriously reconsidering my entire worldview."
Stiles smirked. "Amusing, but he's probably going after his next target."
"I know who he's after," Scott said, his voice firm with realization.
Hope tilted her head. Forgetting who was the target.
Stiles gawked. "What? How? Did you smell something?"
"Armani," Scott stated with absolute seriousness.
****
A/N: Check out my original novel (Born of Fiction, Bound by Fate) in my profile, it won't disappoint.
By the way, how can this book enter in fanfic selection. I want to participate.
創作者的想法 
InkDreamer_7906
InkDreamer_7906 I don't want my Hope to steal the character's line, I personally find it boring, So that's why she didn't spoke much and said to figure out things on their own. Hope will help when I want to change the plot and won't when I don’t want to change the plot. It depends. Hope you liked the chapter, I'll try to keep updating regularly. Don’t forget to vote ;)
— 新章節待更 — 寫檢討
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票