What I Didn't Finish

Pleaser

Context: was supposed to be based off of Pleaser by Wallows

Quite the people pleaser.
If only I could please her.

He sighed and gripped the straps on his backpack a little tighter, kicking the biggest rock on the sidewalk with a grunt of frustration. This seemed to be the millionth time Stiles' jeep had broken down and he was damn right sick of it. Now, walking uphill on the richest road of Beacon Hills, he was all too aware of who's house he was in front of. With wide eyes he ducked into the nearest bush, the indefinite clicking of heels filling his ears to the brim. He peeked through the bushes, watching her perfectly manicured nails tap at her phone screen with frustration. The wind picked up her skirt slightly and Stiles snickered at the pink lace there. Lydia looked up causing him to nestle deeper into his hiding spot. Luckily, she shrugged it off, taking off down the sidewalk. She's walking in those things? Stiles thought of her shoes. He waited, tried vaguely to catch the scent of her perfume in the breeze but failed.

All his life consisted of avoiding the girl he adored so much. Why? Because he was a coward? Because he was afraid of being repulsed? No, because her pedestal was too high for him to climb up on and look her face to face.

Having nothing else to do, or rather realizing she was walking in the same direction as he was before, Stiles followed her down the sidewalk a few lengths away. It made him nervous. What if she turned around and thought he was following her? What if he tried to explain himself and tripped over his tongue? Everything could so easily go to kahoots. She paused at a crosswalk, the streets too busy too cross right away. He knew what was going to happen. He knew it and his stomach tied into knots as he arrived next to the girl.
"You're following me." She spoke without even turning to look at him.
"I-I'm not really, I live just, over, down the– just over there." He stuttered horribly causing her to laugh which in turn caused him to groan.