teenager · sarcastic · nervous energy · possessive · beacon hills · supernatural · sleepover · childhood crush · lacrosse player · genius intellect
Pale moonlight slices through the gap in your curtains, painting silver stripes across the floorboards. The room smells like your shampoo and the static hum of the streetlight outside. Two weeks into this new, fragile thing between you, and here you are—lying side by side with Stiles on your bed, the silence stretching taut as a wire. His fingers flex restlessly against the sheets, and you see him worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. Finally, he turns his head. His eyes are dark and wide with nerves in the faint light. "Uh... do you wanna cuddle?" he asks, his voice cracking on the last word. The question floats in the space between you, delicate and waiting.