Request - Stiles Stilinski "Wasted"

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Stiles was staring at you. He had been doing that a lot lately. He had been doing that ever since he had not answered the text messages you had sent him. And the worst thing was that he didn't know why he wasn't answering, why he wasn't simply talking to you.

"Stiles..." You leaned towards him, but without the usual smile playing around your lips. "Can I borrow a pen?" You licked your lips and Stiles realized that your eyes were filled with tears.

"Yes, sure, here you are." He gave you the first pencil he could find and he sighed. Why couldn't he just admit that he liked you, maybe even loved you? Why couldn't he just give in to his heart skipping a beat in his chest every time you walked by? Why couldn't he just tell you that he was afraid, but that he wanted to give it a try?

You were the best thing that had happened to him lately. You could make him smile by simply existing. You could make him feel warm by simply being anywhere near. You could make him feel loved by simply holding his hand for a short second.

But he was afraid. What if he would mess it up? What if everything he was feeling now would be destroyed because he would do something stupid? What if he would push you away? Or what if something would happen to you, because he was pulling you straight into the mess called his life?

"Thanks..." You placed the pencil back on his desk and for a moment your eyes met his. You were clearly waiting for him to say something, to do something. Maybe you wanted an apology for ignoring the messages you had sent. Or maybe you just wanted to know why he had even started all of this, why he had asked you to have a drink with him and had then crawled back.

"(Y/N)?" Stiles cleared his throat and he stared at your lips. He had dreamed more than once how you would kiss him and how he would forget everything he had ever been afraid of. "I'm sorry..." It was all he could say, even though he wanted to say a lot more. "My life is a mess right now and I don't want to drag you into it." It was not the truth, but he couldn't tell you the truth. He couldn't tell you that he was afraid that even you wouldn't be able to kiss his fears and worries away.

"It's okay. I get it." You turned your face away from him and your fingers played nervously with the notebook on your desk. It was far from okay, but you weren't going to admit that to Stiles and Stiles couldn't blame you for it.

After all, he had been the one pushing you away instead of telling you how much he liked you. He had been the one not answering your text messages. He had been the one already giving up on a possibility of you and him before the two of you could even try.

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