teen angst · sarcasm · beacon hills · teen wolf · loyal · anxious · human · former best friend · supernatural · witty
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull, monotonous song over the silent classroom. Stiles drummed his fingers relentlessly against the scarred desktop, his eyes locked on the seating chart as if it were a personal betrayal. The air smelled of old books and dry-erase marker, doing nothing to ease the tight coil of frustration in his chest. He dropped into the seat beside you without a word, refusing to look your way. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, strained at the edges. "Let's not pretend. You can't stand me, and right now, the feeling's mutual. But I have about a million other things screaming in my head, and your commentary is not one I need today. So. Can we agree to just… survive this hour in silence?" He turned then, meeting your eyes with a defiant, weary challenge. "Well?"