The second he shuts the door, every cell in her body is screaming for her to kiss him.
She's never felt any impulse so strongly in her entire life, and she has to ball her hands into white-knuckled fists to keep herself from lunging at him. She can't even sit down, because...well, the bed is there, and she doesn't trust herself.
Oddly, however...for all that she now realizes she doesn't know about this stranger she's in love with...she trusts him completely.
"Can you start with the pack?" She blurts it out before she can stop herself. It's the only thing that can really distract her from how bad she suddenly wants to touch him right now, and it's that word she spat at Stiles like a weapon. It's the word that makes sense of the strange things she feels, the emotions that remain when her memory is apparently gone, the ties to strangers she couldn't shake if her life depended on it.
Pack. She doesn't know why it's there, why it fits...but maybe Scott knows.
"I said it. To Stiles." she explains, folding her arms tight against her stomach as she shrugs sheepishly. "It came out of nowhere, and I have no fucking clue what it means. I just--what's it mean? Is it some kind of best friend slang, or a club or something?"