It’s awful of her to be continuously laughing at him, she knows. It’s just hard not to, with the limbs everywhere and the flailing — and yet he’s somehow attractive through all that. Or maybe because of it. She can’t keep an edge of that awareness out of her gaze while she points to the couch.
“You should sit down before you fall down,” Summer suggests. “I think there might be some arnica gel in the first aid kit, do you want me to check? I’m sure the bruise isn’t that bad.” Helios strolls over to give Stiles a sniff, then headbutts his leg — the left one. “By the way, how /did/ you find him?”
“Nah, it’s okay, I bruise super easily, plus I’m on the lacrosse team, it’s nothing new. Don’t worry about it.” Stiles hobbles over to the sofa suggested, flopping mostly-non-violently into a seated position. It does seem much easier for him to plonk the ice pack on the offended part of his leg this way.
He uses his left hand to reach down and rub at the cat’s ears, absent-mindedly. “He found me, actually, I was just kind of hanging around near school and voila, cat. My best friend works at the animal clinic, so I know Dr. Deaton pretty well and since Helios seemed really personable I took him up to see if I could figure out who he belonged to. Hence, finding the microchip.”
“Lacrosse!” She bolts upright, eyeing him with a suddenly intent gaze. “That was you?! Last year! The championship game! You scored the winning goals! I /knew/ I knew that name from somewhere!” Helios lays back his ears at her, and she glares mildly. “Don’t look at me in that tone of ears, Mr Escapee. I do not need you to bring me friends.”
Insolently he licks his nose at her, and she glances back up at Stiles. “You see how I am abused here, taken advantage of. He did that to you too, obviously.” She tilts her head a little to the side. “Who’s your best friend?”