Heaven and Hell

Adeline had spent years perfecting the art of blending in. She knew the rules — never stand out, never reveal too much, and never, ever let someone like Stiles Stilinski get too close. He had a habit of digging where he shouldn’t, piecing together clues others dismissed, and seeing what others missed.

And yet, here he was, sitting across from her at the library, arms crossed, that knowing smirk on his lips.

“You’re really bad at hiding things, you know that?”

Adeline stiffened but kept her expression neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Stiles let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward. “See, that’s the thing. You do know what I’m talking about. And you’ve been trying so hard to throw me off, but, well…” He gestured to the pile of case files in front of him, labeled Documents, Crime Scene, Evidence, Suspects. “I’m kind of an expert at this stuff.”

Her stomach twisted. He was too close to the truth.

“I don’t know what kind of conspiracy theory you’ve come up with, but I’m just a normal person, Stilinski.”

“Right. Totally normal,” he said, tilting his head. “Except for the part where your eyes flashed white in the reflection of my Jeep’s mirror two nights ago.”

Adeline’s breath caught. It had been a mistake, a split second of lost control. She had hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Or,” Stiles continued, lowering his voice, “the way you disappeared from the hallway in under a second when Coach was about to catch us sneaking into his office. Or how your perfume smells like the air right before a lightning storm.”

Her hands curled into fists under the table. “You're seeing things, probably you're too much into these supernatural things”

Stiles just grinned. “Oh, please. Maybe I'm but I can see that something is wrong."