anything you say stays between us. scott + stiles? maybe i could try writing scott again who knows
Stiles tilted his head, crossing his arms like he was about to deliver a TED Talk on Why Sharing Your Feelings Is a Terrible Idea. “ Anything I say, huh? Wow, that’s a dangerous promise to make, my friend. I could unload a lot of weird stuff right now. Like, a lot. You ever think about why ketchup bottles always get crusty at the top? Or why there’s no Blue Raspberry in fruit snacks anymore? That one keeps me up at night. ”
He waved a hand, as if clearing the nonsense from the air. “ But, okay, fine, serious stuff. Sure. You know me, Scott, I am just brimming with deep, emotional revelations. I’m basically a vault of vulnerability. Except, uh, the vault is broken & the combination got lost somewhere in the mess that is my brain. ”
His fingers fidgeted with the drawstrings of his hoodie as he paced a small circle. “ Here’s the thing, though. It’s not that I don’t want to share stuff. I do. Like, in theory, it’s a great idea. Cathartic. But, man, what if I say something that makes this weird? Like . . . weird weird? You know, the kind of thing where you’ll look at me like I just told you I’m afraid of butterflies or something. Which I’m not, by the way. Unless they’re really big butterflies. Those are freaky. ”
He stopped pacing & ran a hand through his hair, his tone shifting into something between self-deprecating & honest. “ It’s just . . . once I say it, it’s out there. Like, permanently out there. No take-backs, no ‘just kidding.’ That’s a lot of pressure, dude & you know, I’m not exactly the poster child for dealing with pressure in a chill & composed way. ”
He shrugged, offering a crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “ So, yeah. Maybe I’ll just, uh . . . marinate on it for a bit. You know, let my brain stew in its own overthinking juices. That’s healthy, right? Definitely not something that’ll backfire spectacularly later. ”
He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets & rocked back on his heels, a nervous energy still buzzing beneath the surface. “ But hey, if I do decide to spill the beans, you’ll be the first to know. Probably. Maybe. Okay, second, because I might tell Roscoe first. ”









