How do you know? (A Will Poulter fanfiction)

Party

I come downstairs in my high-waited black shorts, black heel and loose fitted, white 'Stilinski' singlet with the big number 24 on the front tucked into the band of the shorts. I watch as Will's face contorts into what I could only call amused pain.

"Lizzy, you can not wear that," he says, a hint of amusement behind his tone.

"Why not?" I ask, my eyes going wide as I look down at my outfit. "Is it not dressy enough?"

I look over at his attire of jeans and a red basketball singlet and wonder if this is a gender thing. I narrow my eyes at him, I thought I looked totally cute.

"Not at all, love," He says then emits a weird, frustrated sort of groan as he walks forward and places his hands on my hips. "It's just that you can not wear a shirt, advertising that you are a serious fan of one of my closest friends characters. Do you know how that makes a guy feel?"

I let out a loud laugh as I rest my hands on the back of his neck and try to look at him seriously, but I just can't get the amused smile of my face at his adorable face.

"I promise that I am a bigger fan of you," I say, massaging the back of his neck with my fingers.

"No you're not!" he scoffs audibly and rolls his eyes, looking at the floor. "The first time we met, you didn't even know who I was!"

I try to keep my serious face in tact but it doesn't work as a wide smiles crosses my features and I shake my head at him in disbelief. "But I don't know Dylan O'Brien in real life, but you, you're pretty great."

A smile touches the corner of his lips at that and he dares to peek up at me. "Dylan's a good guy, too."

"I'm sure he is," I say, poking his chest before stepping down onto the floor in front of him and grinning.

He looks down at me from his lofty height and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, his nervous habit, "Still..."

"Well why don't you think about it in terms of I love Dylan as an actor, but I still wanna hang around you all the time. Now, can we just agree that you're big goofball and go, you're already running late."

"I'm pretty sure we're running late," he corrects as I follow him out into the garage.

"Considering you're the one invited and I'm just an add on, you're the only one that matters here," I say, opening the car door and taking a seat in the passenger side.

"Trust me, you matter. I told my friends you were coming. I'm pretty sure they're more excited about the fact that you're coming more than the fact that I'm coming," he says as he sits in the drivers side and puts the keys in the ignition. The garage door starts to automatically open behind us as Will backs out.

"Nonsense," I say, hiding my smile. He'd talked about me! To his friends! What had he said? Who do they think I am to him? What if they don't like me? Are they going to tell Will and make him think bad things about me to. I start to freak out a little bit.

How long had I know Will now? Like, two or three weeks? And we'd been in our little bubble the entire time. What if somebody else sees me in a completely different light and makes him realise my flaws too. I know that I've only know him for a short period of time but the thought of him thinking or knowing the worst about me and not wanting to speak to me anymore has my stomach and heart in knots.

"What are you thinking so hard about over there?" He asks, reaching out to stroke my hair that I'd pulled in waves over my shoulder.

"Nothing in particular," I lie. I turn my head to face him, my cheek resting against the back of the chair as he pulls his hand back and places it on the steering wheel.