[ It's a little before midnight, a little before fireworks duty, but Stiles hasn't found his way over to the beach yet. Rather, he steps a little away from the party on the beach for the moment, finding his way to a familiar figure watching over the rest of the festivities.
There's been this--barrier of awkwardness, for the past month or so. It was mostly Stiles' fault and he knew it, because he was a chicken, had always kind of been one when push came to shove, at least in this vein of things. But honestly? He missed it, whether you'd get him to admit it out loud or not. It was a month of telling anyone who would listen things that were usually told to Derek, research or weird trivia, of Stiles picking fights with people because he had no one to vent his banter onto. A month of missing--his friend. But he'd been so sure he screwed up that he thought he had to just live with it.
And then Stiles disappeared for a couple days, and apparently everything went to hell in his absence. He'd woken up in Derek's bed on Christmas, and had left the room even more confused than before, but things seemed to be...easier, at least. More familiar, but not nearly at the level he'd been before.
Watching him watch over the party had brought a weird surge of affection to his chest, and he jogs briskly over before stopping beside him and turning to stare out at the party too, jamming his hands in his pockets. It's freakin' freezing out here. Like. Freezing. ]
Back to the whole lurking thing, huh. [ It's soft, but there are paragraphs laced in his seven words, underlining the phrase with "we should talk". ]
sits on your midnight thread
There's been this--barrier of awkwardness, for the past month or so. It was mostly Stiles' fault and he knew it, because he was a chicken, had always kind of been one when push came to shove, at least in this vein of things. But honestly? He missed it, whether you'd get him to admit it out loud or not. It was a month of telling anyone who would listen things that were usually told to Derek, research or weird trivia, of Stiles picking fights with people because he had no one to vent his banter onto. A month of missing--his friend. But he'd been so sure he screwed up that he thought he had to just live with it.
And then Stiles disappeared for a couple days, and apparently everything went to hell in his absence. He'd woken up in Derek's bed on Christmas, and had left the room even more confused than before, but things seemed to be...easier, at least. More familiar, but not nearly at the level he'd been before.
Watching him watch over the party had brought a weird surge of affection to his chest, and he jogs briskly over before stopping beside him and turning to stare out at the party too, jamming his hands in his pockets. It's freakin' freezing out here. Like. Freezing. ]
Back to the whole lurking thing, huh. [ It's soft, but there are paragraphs laced in his seven words, underlining the phrase with "we should talk". ]