"Until the end starts..."

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DANCE

Stiles really wasn’t much of a coordinated dancer. He got that off his dad, who had apparently been subjected to dance lessons by Stiles’ mom prior to their wedding so he could at least pull off their first dance without face-planting the floor or crushing her toes.

Now here Stiles was in exactly the same boat, trying to learn how to do the waltz for his own wedding because – apparently – twerking or the sprinkler dance weren’t viable prospect for one’s first dance as a married person. But really, Stiles was sure everyone should be grateful he didn’t want the Timewarp.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table for untiltheendstarts ]

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MAIL

Stiles sat on the floor of the living-room looking at the small pile of mail nursed in the palm of his hand, mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief. The envelopes were yellowed from age, each one had his name scrawled on the front in his mom’s handwriting.

They were all unopened. All written to him before her death. All unknown to him.

Until now. Until he found them tucked away in a wooden box on a shelf in the basement. Did he want to read what was inside, read the words she penned just for him? He had no idea.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table for untiltheendstarts ]

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FALL

Stiles had always been accident-prone. It had been a long-standing joke to everyone he loved since he was old enough to move independently. Whilst it had somewhat decreased the older he got, he still seemed to have the worst luck plague him now and again.

Which was why he was now sat in the busy Beacon Hills Hospital ER waiting-room with an ice pack on his elevated ankle after falling off a ladder painting his and Isaac’s new room to match the flurry of interior decorating going on in the rest of the house. He really hoped it wasn’t broken…

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table for untiltheendstarts ]

Stiles had been stupidly busy. He was exactly three days into his job, and found himself delving so deeply into the new position that after each shift, he went home and crashed to the point he was snoring so loudly his dad heard him across the hall. Living arrangements were in limbo, but now the decision had been to move in and redecorate as they went rather than waiting to decorate and then moving in. Scott's old place was much better for Gus' recuperation, so the choice was made without hesitation.

He had come over to bring some of his shit to move in, but managed to arrive right after Gus had spewed all over the stairs. Cruz had been helping him back to bed after dinner that Lydia had made for them and Scott, but Gus was still adjusting to food that wasn't being fed to him through an IV line again. Cruz had jumped right to helping Gus, and Scott, Lydia and Stiles got to the epic clean-up of the stairs. Though, the carpet was ruined so they were going shopping for something new and more modern tomorrow.

He wanted to check on Gus, though. He had been planning on having a chat with him once he was out of hospital anyway. Cruz was just exiting their bedroom with a basketload of laundry when Stiles came up. They share a smile and Stiles gave him a companionable pat on the back as he passed. "Okay, Tinkerbell, you're officially banned from any interior decorating. Puke-chique just clashes too much with the wall colour," he joked, coming in and pulling up a chair to sit down next to the bed where Gus was propped up with some pillows. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Cleans up barf and does your laundry? You've got yourself a keeper there, man."