Re: [Beacon Hills Hospital]
Stiles gave her a look of exaggerated accusation when she questioned his knowledge of exotic colors. "I want you to know that I helped my dad paint the garage door twice." He tipped his head back and let its weight go on the weak pillows. The balloons were perfectly framed in his vision. "That one is sienna. And that one is... sand. And that one is taupe." He used his free hand to reach up, like a kid stretching out for sweets, and batted the balloon. It bobbed above his head.
Stiles started to worry about his palm going sweaty against hers, but before he could really get into worrying about it, she was distracting him by mocking his new superhero name and providing questions to answers on the blue television. "What the heck is Esperanto... and... Lightning... well, I might have to change my name. Larry, Leonard... Leslie... I could be Leslie Lightning. Lightning Les."
On the television, Alex said, "In radio communication, 'F' is for this social dance that's in quadruple meter." Stiles rocked his whole weight forth and back and edged his hips a few inches sideways on the mattress. He didn't let go of her hand. "You should... sit down." He suggested, nervous, focused, hopeful. "If you're going to be here for the next round."