lift our faces, together, towards the glistening
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“I don’t… I don’t think we should do this without Jackson,” Stiles said desperately, trying to hold on to something to stop himself from feeling like he was rattling out of control.
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Stiles wasn’t sure if his heart could physically burst from his chest, but he figured that if it was going to happen, coming home to find Jackson and Isaac curled up together on his bed, napping in a sunspot, would be what would do him in.
This was the forever spanning out before him.
And Stiles wasn’t going to let anything take it away from him.
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He felt tears of frustration well up in his eyes as he tried and tried and tried, but nothing happened. He could tell that his pack was waiting on him, and it was almost like he could feel their mounting trepidation as he continued to fail them.
Because that’s what he was doing.
He was failing his pack.
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When he looked around the room, when he looked at his pack, all he could see were the hours they all put into training. All he could see were their strengths; which were so vast and so numbered that they covered any individual weaknesses they may have had.
This pack, his pack, was strong.
And Stiles knew, in the deepest parts of his heart, in the warm certainty that flickered like a candle in his chest, that they were going to be okay.
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