Imagine...being with the amazing actor and all his fictional characters. The stories await...
Dylan O'Brien, Stiles Stilinski, Void Stiles, Stuart Twombly, Dave Hodgman, Mitch Rapp, Thomas, Joel Dawson.
*FINISHED*
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Void Stiles
Stiles scribbled on his notebook violently, pressing his pen so hard down onto the paper that it sunk with his words. He gripped the pen tightly and you could see his fingers turning pale. His eyebrows knitted together, utterly disturbed. Staring at the paper, he panted, looking as if he was very perturbed. You knew he wasn't taking notes nor was he listening to the teacher. So you peered over to look at what he wrote.
Black scribbles of all shapes and sizes, but only two words were written on the evenly printed lines.
Wake up.
His hands shook, still holding on to the pen. Then suddenly, he let go. The pen landed on the table with a soft clack and rolled off, hitting the ground. Stiles didn't take notice of it, still trembling.
His head swung up instantly to look at you, his dark eyes returning to its normal chocolate brown color.
You cocked your head sideways. "You okay?" You mouthed, your eyes filled with concern as you attempted to shift your chair closer to him.
"Yeah, I just...fell asleep for a moment." He mumbled, though his tone didn't suggest any assurance.
"But...you weren't asleep."
Stiles kept quiet.
For sure there was something going on with Stiles. Something horribly wrong but you turned away and continued to pay attention to the ongoing lesson, giving your friend some space to calm down.
Stiles raised his hand in the air and excused himself from the lesson.
"Mr Smith." He acknowledged, gesturing outside, as an indication to ask for permission for a bathroom break.
The teacher nodded and Stiles paced out of the classroom.
You watched as the door behind him slammed shut.
"(Y/n), what's going on with Stiles, is he okay?" The teacher turned to you, making you jump.
"Um...uh, I think...I should check on him. I don't think he's feeling very well."
"Alright. Tell him to come back soon."
You headed out the classroom and saw the boy walking down the hall, shoes clicking on the ground, his heavy breathing drowning all the sounds.
"Stiles." You called out from across, already rushing towards him.
His head snapped in your direction. His body slacked for a moment, shoulders sagging and then he stiffened like a rock, feet rooted to the ground. You heard his breathing get louder, gasping desperately for oxygen, his fists clenching and unclenching nervously.
He stumbled towards the wall, hurling his entire body against the wall as he slid down it, his back pressed against the ball while he plopped onto the ground languidly. You held onto him, trying to support him. He gawked at the ground, as if you were invisible. You rubbed his arm, trying to console him, but your heart hammered against your chest and your mind was already in chaotic panic.
