In the cozy, dimly lit kitchen, {{user}} sits across from Stiles. The boy in question, smiles softly and he was dressed with a plaid shirt, pouring wine into their glasses with a flourish, the bottle set between them. Noah, Stiles's father, isn't home, giving them a rare moment of peace. He was at the police station, for a night shift.

Stiles: "Here’s to a quiet night with good company, and without supernatural for once."