laography | i find the map and draw a straight line

[ thanksgiving had been small in comparison to the year before, and no less somber; even so, spending it with Scott and his mom had been a blessing. For the first time in a year, Stiles sleeps in past 11 and misses his good morning. ]

[ Diana is, as is customary, awake at four and finishing an extensive workout by quarter to six her time. She makes breakfast for when Laura wakes up at six, and they eat together before her sister has to get ready and eventually leave. When eight rolls around on the west coast, she thinks nothing of her silent phone-- Thanksgiving means food comas, and of course Stiles will be nursing one currently.

But then nine comes. And ten. Then eleven, and noon is fast approaching.

She turns her phone over in her hands, until about quarter after.

It takes her another fifteen minutes to hit send. ]

Good morning/afternoon, Stiles.

[ The text startles Stiles awake--his phone lets off a noisy chirp and he jumps in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling in confusion. He'd not been expecting a call, or a text, because really the only person that ever talked to him on the phone was Scott, and Scott was snoring on the couch downstairs.

He blearily stares at the phone for a minute, then his eyes snap wide open. He reads it again once, twice, three times--rubs his eyes, makes sure he's not dreaming.

Diana texted him.

There's a confused jolt of feelings that leave Stiles' mouth jaw dropped as he stares at the message. She's been getting his messages all along--she never replied to any of them, but she's been getting them? How is he supposed to feel? Angry, betrayed, upset?

But no, he's Stiles. And he settles for a warm, clenching feeling of joy as he texts back. ]

i can feel you chiding me for forgetting from across the country.

[ Oh my god, oh my god. ]

[ Diana feels like she has no right to text Stiles, after spending so long not replying to him. But she promised herself to make sure that he would get a text, the moment that he took too long to send her a good morning greeting. Because of that week, before his mother's funeral, and the painful pang of empathy she felt.

She still wishes she could've been there like he had been for her, but she's still not sure she knows how to convey herself anymore.

Laying back on the couch, she taps her thumbs across her phone and hits send. ]

Maybe a little bit.

[ There are so many things he wants to say. Stiles taps his thumbs against the keyboard for a minute, chewing on his lip. I'm sorry. Where are you? Why did you never answer me?

Are you coming home?

There's a bit of unavoidable awkwardness to this whole situation, the confusing juxtaposition of love and loss, and it takes him a couple minutes to respond, jittering around his room before, after, and during. ]

cut me a break! not all of us get up and go for runs like superwoman at butts o'clock in the morning.

[ Even with an anxiousness twisting up her stomach in knots, she still tries to find the things she thinks she might have said before the funerals were lined up in their lives. She's uncertain of what to say, but it's Stiles.

She has to make an effort, because it's the least that he deserves.

Biting the corner of her lip with a blunt canine, Diana regards the words on her phone's screen. I'm sorry I never answered. I'm sorry for everything. ]

Nope, no breaks.
Besides, the city's too noisy. I don't go on runs anymore. It's pull-ups and push-ups now.
Get with the times.

says the girl who won't get a facebook page
if you keep doing that you're going to be able to bench press me
that's ridiculously unfair

[ A little smile quirks on his face as he sets his phone down on his chest, looking up at the ceiling. Ultimately, he's always told himself, he's pretty good at waiting. He'd wait for Lydia. You bet your ass he'd wait for Diana. The anger could come another day, when he wasn't so relieved she was actually alive, communicating with him again.

Besides, Stiles has enough to be upset about in his life nowadays. ]

Facebook is stupid.
I probably can bench press you, even if I'm pretty sure you're taller than me now.

[ Judging by the pictures he'd sent her, anyways. For the longest time, she'd been taller-- age and gender on her side-- but he's older now. He's probably started gaining those inches, and it's pretty obvious that he's growing into himself a lot better (despite the ungainly limbs she's not surprised that he has).

She can't help but wonder what he sounds like now, though. It'd be easy to find out, but she's never liked the phone and even that terrible curiosity doesn't push her into finding out.

Texting is easier, and it means she can put a little distance between them for the meantime. ]

facebook is a valuable tool to the teen psyche
also ive gotta bother /someone/ for candy crush lives

[ Are they bantering? It feels like it. It's been ages since they've gotten in a proper argument--it's been ages since they've talked, but things are starting to click into place. For the first time, instead of texting Diana all day, he's texting Diana and getting replies back, all day. ]

like the only benefit to puberty, period
tall gangly and awkward at your service
also i'm totally holding you to that bench press thing bull /shit/ you can

You enjoy Facebook then, because I'm not a teenager anymore Stiles.
That ship has long since sailed.

[ They're bantering, and she's missed it. All those messages he sent, she could've replied to. She could've had this for two years-- six, if she'd gotten into contact with him when she and Laura moved. But she realizes that it would've made her long for home even more, and that's what hurts more than anything else. Even the guilt. (Then again, her life is full of guilt these days.) ]

How much do you weigh.

okay fine
facebook is a tool for teenagers to spy on their friends
:D

[ Well, it'd be nice. He can think about them talking on facebook, fantasize about having constant contact again, stupid things like that, like it would lead all the way back to her coming back to Beacon Hills again or something.

But that was dumb, and he knew it was dumb. Rolling over, he puffs out his cheeks and exhales noisily, tapping back. ]

are you coming onto me [ #dumb comments ]
147 ;D

Then I'm /definitely/ not getting one.

[ It would be nice. And it'd be ever better to go home, even if she'd feel a little more like a stranger if she did. In her mind, she lost the right to Beacon Hills because of Nate, because of what wound up happening. The territory is still considered the Hale's, but for how much longer?

Will they ever go home to defend it, or will they just let time run its course?

She doesn't want to think about it. Instead, she laughs a little at Stiles' stupid comment. ]

No.
But I could definitely bench press you.

you should definitely not get one
is this reverse psychology thing working for you

[ She wouldn't be a stranger. Stiles likes to think Diana'd be welcome back in Beacon Hills. No one ever blamed her for what happened (but how could they, when they didn't know?), and the Hales had been a golden family in town for so long, that sometimes people around town asked him, "you were always around the Hale girls, how are they doing these days"? His dad would help them get a house again. It'd be perfect.

It wasn't that easy, though, and Stiles had a feeling he might have known why. It wasn't something he'd mention out loud, but needless to say, if he saw the elder Argent anywhere around town? He'd punch his lights out. And then get him arrested. In that order.

He also tries to pretend he's not disappointed at the no. It's a good thing this isn't a phone call. ]

challenge frickin accepted wonderwoman

Let me think.
No.

[ No one knew what Diana did-- Laura, she thinks, is the only one who might, yet they never talk about it-- or who caused the fire, but she'll always remember. And it's going to weigh on her for the rest of her life, heavy and burning, leaving her waking up every morning with ash and smoke in her lungs. Some days she can't breathe when she jerks awake from a nightmare, the burnt taste so thick in her mouth. She was never there for the fire, only came when they were putting out the last remnants of it, but her guilt will never stop her mind from filling in the blanks.

Especially not with bright blue eyes that burned cold, and a charming smile that was more like a predator that'd found its prey.

It's a good thing she's had pictures of Stiles saved on her phone from the past two years, the contrast of between fire that burns and fire that warms has made potential panic die down more than once. ]

Maybe we can have a competition to see who can bench press who the most.

you are a fun suck
an actual fun suck

[ Stiles has no idea of Diana's heartbreaking situation, of the panic. He knows what guilt tastes like, knows how much it hurts to wake up in the morning with the heavy burden of "that was all my fault" on your shoulders. If he had the chance, he'd do whatever he could to help--he can't chase it away, no one could ever chase it away for him.

But Stiles could remind her to breathe. ]

you would kick my /ass/ i'm not doing that
maybe we can have a challenge to see who can eat more cheeseburgers instead

I try.

[ Ever since Nate, Diana has sworn to never make another person her anchor. To never try to be one for someone else.

But Stiles is different.

On one hand, she's afraid that if she ever tried to anchor him in turn-- to hold his hand like he had for her when her family was gone, to try and get him to simply breathe when the weight of guilt was too much-- she would drag him down and drown him.

But there are two kinds of anchors: those that tether you in a storm, and those that drag you down to drown. ]

I feel like I still have an unfair advantage.

the wild funsuck in her natural habitat hunts down her natural prey
an amazing opportunity for candy related bonding presents itself across the moor
she lays in wait for the perfect opportunity
the candy related bonding makes a move
she sucks the fun out like a fun vampire
the funsuck wins again

[ Stiles, what are you actually doing. (The answer is trying to make a girl laugh, because he's a moron.) Diana deserves to laugh, though--Stiles wonders if she still groans at the jokes he's been sending her, or if she genuinely laughs at him. It's been ages since he's heard it.

She hasn't heard him since his voice changed, either. Okay, granted, he still cracks every now and then, and he was thrilled that she missed the Little Girl phase of it, but he's a man now. Chest hair and everything. (Not really). There are so many little things Diana missed, so many things he's dying to tell her about.]

yeah well you're up against a teenage boy
i'm invincible on that front

A+ documentary.
Would watch on BBC.

[ Rolling over to press her face into the back of the couch, Diana does laugh a little. It's such a stupid ramble, but it's from Stiles, and she knows him well enough to know that he's still trying to make her laugh, five and a half years later. From an outside perspective, it's a little sad that the only two people who manage to honestly make her laugh with relative ease are her sister and a boy she hasn't seen in ages.

But she doesn't care. She just remembers that crooked grin, and how much he lit up when she would groan but still laugh a little anyways.

It'd be nice to see how the expression would look on his face now. ]

I don't know, you'd be going up against someone who puts away enough food for the whole lacrosse team pretty easily.
Are you sure you're up to that challenge?

i find the map and draw a straight line

november 24th, 2011

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