with me- stiles

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You weren't sure how long you'd been hiding out in your little solace, quite satisfied with never leaving the confines of your bedroom until the dreaded day had passed, hopefully, the week would pass with it until you had no reason to think of anything but finals- but your best friend had other plans, plans to which you were none the wiser but the less than silent way he moved about your house was hinting at something you should've seen coming all along.

"Yoohoo," Stiles sang as he threaded into your bedroom, being sure to brush his fingers over the drawers of your dresser as he approached you. "A little birdy told me that you were refusing to leave your room," he explained lightly, scanning the bed to identify where you were under the sea of blankets and duvets before carefully sitting down next to you.

"Go away, Stiles," you mumbled, words barely audible as you pushed your face further into your pillow, the last thing you wanted was to face another man after the day you'd had- he knew this, of course, but it meant almost nothing to him, he was insistent on cleaning this mess even if it was not his, for once.

"That's not on the cards, I'm afraid," he tutted and was uncharacteristically gentle as he moved the duvet to reveal your face, smiling softly as he folded his legs over each other. "Want to tell me how much you hate him?" he suggested, and you offered a mere shake of your head in reply. "Want me to have Scoot eat him?" that earned him a small scoff, your smile evident in the sound as you turned to see him, you didn't truly mind that he was seeing you in your current state, which was one worthy of scaring off whichever replacement you could find, but despite your words you were actually quite happy that Stiles was with you, he had a frustrating way of making you feel better even when you didn't want to, but you were never planning on letting him know that.

"Men suck," you noted, scrunching your nose when he brushed the hair from your face. "You make us feel all special and then you bail on us for prom," you explained with a pout so prominent that it pulled at all your features, Stiles humming softly in understanding.

Now, he hardly considered himself a sentimental man, but you were hurting and however silly the reason might seem in the grand scheme of things, he did consider it an almost personal challenge to take that pain away and if the cause was so simple then the solution was just as simple. And though he'd never dare admit it loud, he was never quite fond of the fella in the first place, not for even a second did he think he was worth even a minute of your time, even less so your tears.

"Well, you know, one of the many perks of being my best friend is that I'm always ready for a party," he paused, smirking as you lifted your head. "I also look amazing in a suit," he shrugged, watching with a familiar tilted brow as you realized what he meant, nearly jumping from your hiding place at the thought of it.

"Stiles, are you saying you'll be my date?" your voice was soft still, understanding that though he'd do just about anything for you, this wasn't exactly his idea of the perfect way to spend his Friday night.

"Sure am," he couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing you smile so purely, so freely, hardly understanding how something so little could make you so happy, but it did, and it filled him with an unfamiliar sense of pride that he was the reason behind it. "But," he paused, feigning seriousness as you sat up. "You have to take a shower first, smelly pants," you left your bed with an excited squeal, making it halfway to the bathroom before running back towards him.

"You're the best," you giggled, squeezing him tightly in a hug, too excited to notice the way he breathed you in lightly, kissing the side of your head as you pulled away. "Love you," you noted with a scrunch of your nose, a million things to be done still running through your head as you skipped to the bathroom.

"Love you too," he sighed, grabbing onto one of the stuffed bears he'd brought you over the years before falling back onto your bed, the poor man had no idea what he was signing up for, but he couldn't truly bring himself to care just yet, as long as it made you happy, he'd sign up for just about anything.

𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora