THE QUIET HURTS. the quiet that came after laughter, the kind of quiet that used to fill every corner of your life. the kind that used to sound like him.
you used to talk to stiles stilinski about everything. every stupid thing in your life. the good days, the bad ones, the ‘whatever’ nights where you would be sitting in his jeep, music playing softly from the radio, and the air between you warm and fuzzy with something you had been too embarrassed to name.
but lately, you stopped.
you don’t stiles text back right away, you find excuses to not hang out with him, you immediately hide when he walks into a room. it’s not because you necessarily want to— it’s because you have to. because you love him, and you can’t stand how much it hurts anymore.
the issue started out insignificant. you told yourself it was a silly crush, that it would fade, like all the other boys you liked in your life.
but it didn’t quite go the way you wanted it to. it grew. it dug its claws in deep. it made a home in your heart, where it’s resided for a while now. —READ MORE!
and every time he looks at lydia— that soft, star struck gaze of affection that says she’s it, you feel something break deep within you.
you used to think you were strong enough to just be his best friend, but it’s like walking on nails now.
every laugh you share together, every secret whispered, and every time his body touches yours, it’s excruciatingly painful.
which brings you to your current predicament— you pull away. you convince yourself it’s better this way, he’ll be fine. he has scott, lydia, and the rest of your friends. he doesn’t need you, he’ll be perfectly fine without you!
you on the other hand, need space. space to get yourself to stop loving him.
except space doesn’t help like you thought it would. it only makes it worse.
now, because you don’t see him every day, you begin to miss him so much it physically aches in your chest.
you lie awake at night staring at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling, trying not to think about the way he used to make you laugh until you were rasping for air, or how he would always find an excuse to drive you home, or how his voice used to sound when he said your name, softer and gentler than it had any right to be said.
it’s been weeks since you two have spoken. long enough that even scott has stopped asking if you’re doing okay.
you’re half asleep, thoughts finally drifting away when something clacks against your window.
you open your eyes immediately— freezing in fear, it’s way past midnight.
after a minute of silence, you think the lack of sleep has you hearing things, so you lay your head back onto your cushiony pillow until another loud clack hits the glass.
you push off your blanket and slowly walk towards your window, your body heavy with confusion and half asleep state that makes everything feel like your dreaming. when you pull your curtaina open, you see him.
stiles.
standing in the dark, glowing in the moonshine in his favourite hoodie and pajama pants, with a handful of pebbles in his right hand and a saddened expression painted on his face that makes your chest tighten.
he looks like maybe he hasn’t been sleeping well either.
you unlock your window, pushing it open, the chilly midnight air hitting your face. “stiles, what the hell are you doing?” you whisper, your voice raspy from the half slumber.
he grins a little, but it doesn’t look real. “hey.”
“‘hey?’ are you serious? it’s almost one in the morning!” you whisper shout.
“i know,” he replies. “i missed you.”
you blink, because you weren’t prepared for that. anything but that. “you… what?”
“i missed you.” he repeats, as if it were common sense, like it’s a thought that’s been weighing on his heart for far too long. “you’ve just been gone. and i don’t know what i did to make you so angry with me, but i hate it. i hate not being able to talk to you.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. you should tell him to go back home. you should lock the window and crawl back into your bed and pretend none of this happened, but the sound of his familiar voice breaks something in you.
you sigh in defeat. “come up before someone sees you.”
he grins, excited but timid, and within seconds he’s climbing up the side of your house, the familiar dance he’s perfected over the years with being your best friend.
he stumbles through the window, breathless, his hair a mess, sticking up in different directions and suddenly he’s standing there in front of you, in your room, in your space, and it feels like everything you’ve been attempting to hold back is right there with him.
“hi,” he whispers, finally catching his breath.
“hi,” your fingers twitch beside you.
he looks around, at your desk cluttered with books, the picture frame of you and your friends, the one with him.
his eyes finally meet yours. “this feels weird,” he breaks. “not talking to you. you’re my best friend, and i don’t like it.” you cross your arms with the same ache you’ve been pushing away. “maybe that’s kind of the point, stiles.”
his brow furrows in confusion. “the point?”
you let out a small laugh in disbelief at how clueless he is. “god, you can’t be this dense.”
he blinks, growing more confused by the second. “what?”
“you don’t get it, do you?” your voice breaks a little, the exhaustion and heartbreak clawing at your chest. “i can’t be near you, stiles. i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay watching you fall in love with someone else.”
his jaw slacks open, but no words comes out.
you keep going because if you stop now, you’ll never get the truth out. “every time you talk about lydia, it’s like someone’s stomping on my heart repeatedly. i really tried to ignore it, i tried to just… be your best friend like you wanted— but i can’t. because i love you, okay? i love you, and it hurts too much to be with you.”
the silence after feels like hours as he stands there.
stiles just stares at you. there’s glimpses of shock, disbelief, and something you don’t know, and for a second, you think you’ve ruined everything you two have built over the years.
then he steps closer.
you freeze when his hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your cheek. “then you should know,” he says softly, voice whispering, “that i love you too.”
the world stops. “you… what?”
he gives a small laugh in disbelief. “i thought you knew. i thought it was so obvious— god, i’m such an idiot.”
you shake your head, the tears you’ve been holding back finally releasing. “you loved lydia.”
“i did,” he says. “or at least i thought i did. but it wasn’t like you and me. it wasn’t this—” he gestures between your bodies. “this thing you and me have that has been here for as long as i’ve known you.”
he steps closer until you can feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. “i missed you so much it made drove me crazy. i couldn’t sleep. i couldn’t—” his voice falters. “you’re not just my best friend. you’re everything to me.”
something in you breaks, all that distance, all that pretending, it disappears under the weight of his words.
he leans in, slow enough for you to stop him, but you don’t. you simply cannot, when he kisses you, it’s soft, slow, unrushed.
it’s not desperate and hungry, it’s simply just real. his lips are warm against yours, trembling nervously, and it feels like coming home after years of being away.
when he finally pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. his breath ghosts over your lips.
“you really didn’t know?” he whispers, his voice dripping with disbelief as he laughs.
you shake your head, still shocked by the sudden revelation “no. i thought you’d never feel the same way.”
his thumb wipes at the remnants of your tears away. “guess we were both idiots.”
you giggle softly in reply. “i guess so.”
he takes your hand, fingers intertwining with yours like they were always meant to. “don’t ever do that again,” he says quietly. “don’t disappear. don’t become a stranger.”
you meet his gaze, those eyes that have always been honest, carrying his emotions out in the open, and you nod. “i won’t.”
he smiles, that soft, adorable smile that makes your heart ache. “good.”
then he kisses you again, deeper this time around, his hand cradling the back of your neck, his other still holding yours. the night is silent. it’s yours.
when you finally pull back, you don’t need to say anything. you just rest your head against his chest, breathing him in, the scent of his hoodie, the faint smell of midnight rain in his hair.
for the first time in weeks, you finally feel calm. you feel at peace. you feel whole.
because stiles here.
because you aren’t best friends anymore.
because love doesn’t have to be grand, loud or perfect.
sometimes it’s just this unexpected feeling that sneaks up on you and changes the whole direction of life.
stiles presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “i don’t care what happens,” he whispers. “i’m not letting you fade away from me again.”
you close your eyes, smiling against his chest. “i promise i won’t.”
you stay wrapped in each other for the remainder of the night, things may be messy, you two may be too sleep deprived to actually process what’s going on, but it’s still perfect.
✧ 𝑓. fun fact stiles was one of my first real celebrity crushes 😜 also i’ve recently reread the bridgerton books and now i’m in such a good olden times romance book mood but i legit don’t know what to read if u have any recs plz help a girl out ! 🥲 also this was inspired by new years day by ts if u didn’t notice 🥸
𓂃ㅤ 𝓉𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ୨୧ @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @lcvealwayss @viennasolace ♡ thank you so much for joining !
Trust your instincts. When someone feels off, it’s usually because they’re hiding more than they’re sharing. Stiles may play it casual, but cracks always show eventually—secrets have a way of leaking, no matter how charming the distraction.
Keep your eyes open. The quiet details are always the loudest.
