She can’t help it — he’s looking at his arm like it doesn’t belong to him somehow, and she just loses it so hard Helios is offended on Stiles’ behalf and bounds for the bedroom. “Oh my god, your face, you should have seen your face, did you forget you had muscles?”
Stiles’ mouth turns downwards in a frown that he probably meant to be insulted, but—but he can’t really be that insulted, because she’s kind of right. Stupid arms. “I just kinda can’t figure out when that happened. On the scale of one to actually built like the rest of the team, though, I’m sort of a solid two point five at best.”
“I assume you get to practise with the rest of the team,” she points out, through fading giggles. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and bet that’s when it happened. You’ve just got so caught up in measuring yourself against the rest of them you didn’t notice. Don’t you ever stop comparing yourself to everyone else?” It’s a pretty hypocritical thing for her to say, actually, but he doesn’t know that. On the pretext of taking the warming ice pack away, she gets up and inspects his arms at close range.