Verity and Consequence

Stiles wasn't entirely sure when it all started. It was the kind of thing that had just crept up on him, added to itself in incremental stages, a little here and a little there, until one day it was just kind of there in its entirety. It had constructed itself out of a crooked smile, an afternoon of laughter, fingers on the small of his back to guide him through a crowd. It had built up through an excess of kindness, even when he hadn't deserved it, maybe especially when he hadn't deserved it, a loyalty that had never wavered.