Afraid to Fall ▷ Stilinski

Chapter 15. Drunken Slurs and Proposal Idea's

i apologize in advance for how short this chapter is. the next one is going to be a lot longer, i promise! xx

STILES' POV

"Stiles what are we doing here?" Scott groaned in annoyance as I put my jeep in park. I turned to face him with a wide smile, this plan was totally going to work-- I was sure of it. 

I reached back behind my seat to grab the bottle of Jack Daniels that I had stolen from my kitchen. My dad doesn't really need it anyway, it's not like he needs to be drinking an entire bottle of Jack Daniels in the middle of the night. He's done that before, and it never helps him accomplish anything.

"When your best friend get's dumped--" 

Scott cut me off harshly, "I didn't get dumped! We're taking a break."

I rolled my eyes, "Alright, well when your best friend get's told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break, you get your best friend drunk!"

Scott then mimicked my previous action of dramatically rolling his eyes before he slid out of the jeep. I grinned triumphantly and followed behind him, deeper into the dark woods. I won't lie, the alcohol will serve as much as a distraction to me as it would Scott. Kennedy is really starting to confuse the hell out of me and I don't know what to do.

A huge part of me is screaming, literally freaking screaming, to just kiss her and tell her how I feel. And believe me, I want to do that more than anything-- but then this stupid and more practical voice starts telling me to think it over because she may not want me to kiss her, and the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable. With that thought swirling about in my head, I twisted the cap off and took a swig of the amber colored liquid. It burnt as it went down, and I winced momentarily. 

Scott found a tree stump and plopped himself down on it, I chuckled as I took another drink and laid out on the cool ground. The stars were visible tonight and the sight was enough to make me smile like the drunken idiot I was slowly becoming. Kennedy is probably looking up at these same stairs, well not probably because they are the same stars. Unless there are different ones above her house, how does that even work exactly? 

"Dude, dude.. You know, she's--she's just one girl. One girl. You know outta so many, there are so many girls in the sea." I slurred as I chuckled to myself. Scott was a brooding downer, and he hasn't even had one single drop of the alcohol yet. What a buzzkill. I mean I've been friend-zoned by the girl I love and you don't see me moping around.

My best friend sighed deeply, "Fish in the sea."

"Why are you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. Oh, I love girls. I love 'em. Love... especially one's with brown hair, hazel eyes, five foot two.." I rambled as the image of Kennedy's face lit up like Times Square in the forefront of my mind. 

Scott chuckled, "You mean Kennedy?"

"Yes. I love her, I love Kennedy." I hummed happily as my hand went for the bottle. I awkwardly pushed myself up into a seated position as I shoved the bottle in Scott's direction, nearly dropping the glass container on the ground due to my drunken haze.

I blinked several times to clear my vision, "Hey... you're not happy? Take a drink."

"I don't want any." Scott huffed as he shot me a look. A look that was telling me that I really didn't need to drink any more either, but you know what self-control is so overrated. Like, who even wants to try and be a good person anymore? All that does is get your heartbroken and ignored for eight years.