STILES STILINSKI▫️imagines

[32]▫️PIGS MIGHT FLY✅

Imagine..

Stiles tries to help you through a tough time..

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¤trigger warning; depressing thoughts? Anxiety/depression¤

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I pace around the room. My teeth bite down on my fingernails, switching from one to another.

Every few minutes, I pick up my phone and check every one of my social media accounts. As well as, my text messages and emails.

When I do sit, after more minutes pass, I plop down with a thud. Immediately my knees start to wobble, bouncing up and down.

In an attempt to stop them, I fold my feet onto the chair and into a crossed leg position. This only causes me to start scratching the heel of my left foot. There are already red blotches over both of my heels. In the past, I've scratched them so much that they have started to bleed.

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The thoughts in my head run wild. I try and try to block them out. However, it seems that the more that I attempt to do this, the louder they become.

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There's a knock at the door and it makes me jump. My scratching ceases. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I walk slowly to the sound. I look through the spy hole, while my nerves tell me to run for it and hide.

When I see that it's my boyfriend though, I open the door with shaky hands.

He looks over me in concern, taking in my red raw eyes and messy hair. "Y/N.."

Taking one of my hands, he leads me back into my own home, closing and locking the door behind him. We both sit down on the sofa.

He lets go of my hand, speaking gently. "Is it alright if I touch you?"

I nod. Then he brushes a strand of hair out of my face.

My eyes well up and I feel a lump in my throat. "Scott?"

Stiles nods. "He texted me."

Anxiety grabs at my vocal cords, not wanting me to talk for fear of judgement. I cough. Then with a breathy whisper, continue anyway. "I told him not to.. to call you."

"He's worried Y/N. We all are." He takes both of my hands this time. His thumbs stroke over my pale, cold skin. "What's- was there a specific thing that brought this on this time?"

I open my mouth to answer. Then I realise that I don't have one. I don't recall anything that brought on this bout of anxious feelings tonight. Sometimes it comes from a fight, a tiring day, a bad grade in school - it can be anything. Sometimes.. it can be nothing at all. It comes from nowhere.

My eyes dart between our hands and Stiles' eyes. "I-."

He senses my discomfort, and puts a little more distance between us for the moment. "It's okay. I know sometimes it just.. happens. And you don't have to talk. We can just sit here a while. Or I can leave. Whatever you want."

I consider my options.

"Stay." I mutter. With Stiles here the anxiety has subsided slightly.

Stiles twists so that he is sat beside me rather than opposite. "Is it okay if I put my arm around you?"

I nod, inwardly thanking him for his questions of consent.

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and tugs me gently so that I fall into him. "Y/N. I know things seem really bad right now, but, you will feel better. It could take a minute, a day, a week, month, years.. but no matter what, this feeling you're having will not last forever."

I pick at my nails while listening to him.

I want to believe him.
I just don't right now.
Will I ever?

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Pigs might fly:
- said when you think that there is no chance at all of something happening.

-I used this title because sometimes when you are in this state of mind, it can feel impossible to recover from.

But you will make it through!

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Scratching your feet while feeling anxious or depressed is more common than it sounds.
There is actually a 'skin picking disorder'. I, myself have it. It sounds kind of, maybe, gross. But it purely comes from my anxiety, and I've scratched my feet so much that I have scars. The edges of my foot look as if I've burned them on/in fire, that's the only way I can describe how the scarring looks.

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❤I'm here for anyone who needs someone to talk to❤