[ forty-five minutes pass relatively quickly when you're running on very small amounts of sleep and all your hours awake just kinda blur together. the conversation dies and stiles lets it go, even though a near-full hour of waiting alone in the quaint yet very clearly haunted townhouse fills his stomach with knots. when he gets through it without his tv doing anything weird or breath fogging up any windows, he's incredibly relieved.
he opens the front door and lets amara inside, though, like, the second he sees her, he's already wincing. ]
Please don't call me slug boy.
[ he nods his head towards the front room and invites amara in, closing the door behind her and trying to take, like, everything she's carrying at once. the bag, the boxes. super rude to make a guest carry the whole load. ]
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he opens the front door and lets amara inside, though, like, the second he sees her, he's already wincing. ]
Please don't call me slug boy.
[ he nods his head towards the front room and invites amara in, closing the door behind her and trying to take, like, everything she's carrying at once. the bag, the boxes. super rude to make a guest carry the whole load. ]