titanium.

             ”Wait, w h o a. You’ll cook and get naked? Can we get                married? Like right now. I don’t care what time it is.”

             ”He’s staying at some Motel tonight. You know, important               business out of town and all that ——— which means, we’ve               got the whole house to ourselves until around 8 pm.               Normally I’d invite a few of the guys over, but we could,               you know, just hang out instead.”

           ( Also let it be known that this was the best day of Stiles’ life. )

      "... wow. Never met a girl that'll cook and get naked? Kind of         makes me wonder rock you've been living under all your life."

      “Deal.               ——— wait, why do you need pajama’s?”

      "Just in case. I don't want to walk out in the morning         to make breakfast and have to cover up with a towel         because your dad comes in unexpectedly."

      "Unless he's not coming back until later. We could         ditch school -- smoke a little bit, do other things."

            ❝——- I’ll shut up if you stay the night.❞

       There's something to say about a woman who chooses         to make her move when a man is left all alone in a room         full of sexually charged energy -- and even more to say         about a man who decides to humor this girl just to get         a rise out of somebody else.

        It's not hard to tell she's drunk. It's not hard to tell she's         looking for somebody to take home for the night. It's not         hard to tell, even from across the bar, that her palm was         two inches too close, and he didn't plan on moving it.

        Allison knows he can see her. He knows she's there. It's         in the way he speaks with that hitch at the corners of his         mouth and his body language, as if he were goading her         into coming in and breaking apart that little love-fest.

        She wants to, really. She wants to get that bottle blonde         hair in a fist, wrap, and yank towards her until she hears         the faintest crack -- better yet, put her new toys to use.

        The kind of toys that come with razor sharp blades --

        But she doesn't. Instead, she weaves through the crowd         until she's back at his side, smiling, inviting her to play.

        This isn't jealousy.         This isn't jealousy.         This isn't jealousy. 

❝If I ever see another cardboard box in my life, it’ll be too soon. I think my fingers might have some blisters, you should get the first aid kit so I don’t bleed out.❞

      "... -- oh, no. Heaven forbid a werewolf ever finds        himself with a blister. Maybe I can... kiss it better        instead, and then... kiss something else better?"