โ™ก ๐—–๐—›๐—”๐—ฃ๐—ง๐—˜๐—ฅ ๐—ง๐—›๐—œ๐—ฅ๐—ง๐—ฌ-๐—ก๐—œ๐—ก๐—˜ โ™ก

โ™ก ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ชย โ™ก
๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ thirty-nine

awkward confessions

โ”€โ”€โ”€ ๏ฝฅ ๏ฝก๏พŸโ˜†: *.โ˜ฝ .* :โ˜†๏พŸ. โ”€โ”€โ”€

THE ROOM WAS DEADLY SILENT. So much so, that one could hear a single pin drop or more accurately, the skin cells tear apart underneath the teenager's nails.

As she stood behind Stiles Stilinski, who had glanced in her direction for a split second - worry and uncertainty caressing his gaze - he noticed how her nails had given her a half-crescent moon stamp into her palms.

He turned back to James who let his hands drop to his sides and a remorseful look coating his face. He was almost expecting Peter Hale to jump out from a dark corner with a half-assed 'April Fools!' coming from his mouth.

However, that was not the case. Marilyn furrowed her eyebrows at Stiles and flickered her eyes between him and Dallas. "I didn't realise you had company." She mumbled, not receiving an answer from either of the Garcias.

Stiles leant forward and grasped her hand. "Uh, Stiles Stilinski." He mumbled awkwardly. He had often described his girlfriend's father as intimidating, but upon meeting her mother, it somehow made James look like a cuddly toy. "I'm Dallie's boyfriend."

"Stilinski, huh?" Marilyn narrowed her eyes, a knowing look on her face as she shook his hand. "Who would've thought."

Dallas took a deep breath and slid past Stiles, rushing upstairs into her room and avoiding the look of her parents.

Stiles barely had time to process it before she had disappeared from sight. Dallas pushed her way through her bedroom door, slamming it behind her back and leaning against the chipped wood as her chest rose and fell with her bitter mood. Everything she originally thought was true.

Her mother wasn't dead. The sight of her lounging in her living room made that clear enough. Running her hands through her hair and feeling the adrenaline course through her veins, the siren felt her world crumble around her.

Her mother abandoned them. Faked her death and spent the last year probably couch surfing around Europe while the family that needed her mourned her.

As she felt the icky feeling of sadness wash over her, the brunette found herself jumping to one of the easiest coping mechanisms she had. Anger.

Truth be told, it was much easier to deal with than sadness. It was easier to break shit and scream at the top of her lungs rather than come to terms with something she had knew all along. Something she'd gotten far too comfortable with knowing.

The worst part about being second choice was that it was so close to being first. So close to being a priority to somebody that you could possibly even taste it. However, at the end of all, there would always be something or someone more important.

She felt the door open behind her and slipping through the cracks, with a hint of a smile on his face, was Stiles Stilinski. "Could've forewarned me before you leave me alone with your boy-eating Mom." He took a step inside her room and noticed her dreary attitude.

He took step closer and softly furrowed his eyebrows. It felt like a stupid question to ask, but one that needed to be said anyway. "Are you okay?"

Fuck that.

And fuck her mother.

Even hearing the simple callous question leave the boy's lips reminded her of something she somehow failed to realise. While she was so pent up about being perfect, Stiles was there regardless.

Even with all her flaws. Even when it came to times where the most logical thing to do was run - somehow, she made the Stilinski boy stay. She was his first choice and first thought every time.

Dallas didn't need validation from Stiles to feel worth something. She didn't need validation from anyone, to be quite honest. Yet, she couldn't deny that having someone repeatedly break down the walls she built around herself, no matter how exhausting they were, made her heart soften a little.

She chewed her lower lip and took a sharp breath. "Honest question, Stilinski, do I scare you?" Dallas deflected the question.

Stiles eyed her for a moment before pushing past her lightly. "No."

"No?"

"No." He repeated, turning to her board of Polaroids.

Dallas folded her arms around herself and quipped a brow. He was scared of pretty much everything else in Beacon Hills, so why not her? After all, she was definitely one of the biggest sharks in the small pond that was their town. "Why?"

Stiles remained quiet for a moment, noticing how the photo of her and Louis Morelli that hung on her wall weeks before was now missing. What he didn't know was how it now lay at the bottom of her trash can in tiny shredded pieces. "Cause you're not afraid of me." The human glanced at her furrowed expression and felt a smile tug at his lips. "Not like you were with Void. You could always tell the difference.. always pulling me away from the bad parts of myself."

She ran a hand over her face and avoided his look. "Yeah, cause it wasn't you-"

"I know." Stiles paused. "But he had my face. He had my thoughts and memories and taunted you with it. People look at me now and they don't think I notice the scared flash in their eyes. How nervous they are to be alone with me." The human scratched the back of his neck as he noticed the silence that came from downstairs, noting her parents were probably listening. "You don't have that look. Not once."

The honesty felt like a harsh jab to the chest that winded her and took her breath away. She swallowed hard and sat on the edge of her bed while Stiles sat beside her. "I'm scared of you in volleyball, though. You have a mean throw." He nudged her with his shoulder as a soft laugh left her mouth.

"I mean, I love you and all, but im starting to think you enjoy throwing things at people-"

"What?"

Shit.

Stiles stammered over his sentences. Oh no. Oh god no. Sure, he had told her he was in love with her in the spur of the moment, but they had never actually discussed it since.

"Did I fuck up?"

โŠฑ โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€เฎ“เน‘โ™กเน‘เฎ“ โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โŠฐ

Downstairs, Jim stared directly at Marilyn Garcia sat meekly on the edge of the unfamiliar sofa. "Why are you here?"

"I missed her." Marilyn swallowed harshly. "I missed you. I missed my life."

"Seven years you've been gone, Marilyn!" James slammed his hands against the marbled countertops. "And for the last year, we've been mourning someone who isn't even dead. And you want to come in here, look my daughter in the eyes and say Hello as if nothing ever happened?"

Marilyn glanced up at her husband with a hurt expression. "She's my daughter too-"

"No." he cut her off. "No, she's not. Not after this. The Argents have been gone long enough for you to come back to Beacon Hills. You chose to stay away. What happened to being gone for a couple of weeks, Marie? What happened to throwing off the scent?"

"I panicked!" The older Siren snapped. "I was going to come back. But everywhere I looked, Kate was there. She hunted me down from state to state. Coming back would've just put you both in danger. At least then Dallas would be able to live a normal life." she frowned.

"And what about me? You left me to raise our daughter alone and better yet, left a goddamn werewolf as her godfather!"

Marilyn stood up and cocked a brow. "Derek used to babysit Dallie all the time, James, he's not just some werewolf. I know him and I know her. I only have this family's best interest in mind. You know that."

James dropped his head down and laughed bitterly. "She's working towards law school, you know? She packed up her skating and became a cheerleader to thicken out her qualifications. Wants to be an attorney like her dad." he mused proudly. "You don't know her."

The woman fiddled with her engagement ring and sighed. "Maybe not. But I want to."

The lawyer remained silent for a few moments before glancing up, hunched over his countertops with a lump in his throat. "Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"

She gave him a sympathetic look. "I knew you'd come looking for me sooner or later. I didn't want her to have reason to hurt you. Besides, Kate would stop looking too if she thought I was dead." Marilyn paused. "Now, I just have to find a way to explain all this to Dallas. My sister's made the decision for me to become.. this." the Siren glanced at her hands. "But I don't want that. I wanted her to have the choice. To have her best chance at a normal life."

James felt the guilt seep into his gut as his fists clenched. "She did. For a good sixteen years," he noted how her face fell. "And then on her prom night, your pal Peter Hale tore out her throat and left her there to die." he spat.

Marilyn's eyes grew white and she shook silently. "He did what?

โ˜† word count: 1,603. โ˜†

a/n:ย  short chapter but jfc did alot happen

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