Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Long Time No See // Stiles Stilinski

"You're—you're leaving?"

You had averted your eyes within perfect timing to avoid the heartbroken gaze fixated on you. Your own heart trembled at the mere thought of those dark brown eyes, burning sweltering holes into your face. Deep down, you already knew that moving was going to be arduous enough, but leaving your best friend behind took the cake.

"My parents think it will be better for me to focus on my studies if I'm somewhere else, which is pretty much anywhere but here. My mom has made it abundantly clear just how much she loathes this place." Still resisting the temptations to gaze into those warm, chocolate orbs once more, your focus remained attached to your scuffed sneakers. They kicked the concrete supporting them, almost like you were pushing away someone who cared about you. Each word that escaped your lips thus far has sent your brain deeper and deeper into a state of mind so desolate, you were almost afraid there would be no turning back, no getting out.

"And you decided to tell me all of this the morning that you're going?" He exhaled sharply, which only seemed to sound like a weak scoff in your ears. Your chest constricted and you began to hear your heavy heart thumping in your ears.

"I thought it would be easier this way." Tears clouded your vision, but they never fell. Your shoes went out of focus, but you couldn't bring it in you to care. The only thing that your mind wanted to invest itself in was the fact that you were, without a doubt, breaking your best friend's heart. Why did you wait so long? What if there was a possibility of things ending differently if you had? "I didn't think you were going to show up this morning—"

"Even if I hadn't, how exactly were you planning on telling me that you were leaving Beacon Hills? Over text? Call? Flying messenger pigeon? Or were you not planning on telling me at all?" The amount of betrayal laced in his words was the push your tears needed to be set free, creating multiple tracks and streams of water that coursed down your cheeks. Finally, you lifted your head to match his gaze, but you immediately wished you hadn't. His eyes were determined to hold a certain sense of indignation and despondency, but you easily found one last flicker of hope behind those soothing pools of honey brown. One single tear trickled down his cheek, and one more shard of your heart broke off from the rest. You felt it falling down inside of you, its jagged edges jabbing and clawing into your body like knives.

"Can we please not spend our last minutes together fighting?" You said in a small, meek voice, your eyes piercing into his deeply. You used the sleeves of your hoodie to rid your face of any tears, hoping to dedicate your few dwindling moments to standing in Stiles's arms one last time, to memorize every last feature on his face that allowed him to stand out in a crowd, or at least in your eyes. You wanted to kiss him. To press your lips against his and savor the feeling, the taste of his love for the first and potentially last time. You yearned to tell him how you really felt. Of course, life had different plans in store for you.

"You don't want to fight? Fine." He scoffed once more and crossed his arms. You twiddled with your thumbs anxiously, worried that his last words to you would be something that he hopefully didn't mean. Words that he would regret just as much as you did for being the one to cause them. "We don't have to fight. We don't have to do anything. Enjoy your new life, Y/N."

"Stiles!" You choked back a sob at his now retreating figure, but you knew he wouldn't turn around. He wasn't going to come back. When Stiles was mad, he always needed time to mull it over and take time to calm himself down, but you would already be gone when the peace would return.

Stiles Stilinski was officially no longer a part of your life.

* * *

Your fingers desperately fiddled with the knob in charge of controlling the air conditioning vent in your car as you drove. Whether it was the unbelievable heat Beacon Hills held or your skyrocketing anxiety, you didn't know why you were suddenly so terribly warm. You welcomed the breeze that shot from your car's interior to greet you, laying your head back against the seat tiredly. You had not gotten the best sleep during your expedition, and you weren't necessarily planning on it either. The thought of seeing Stiles again was nearly enough to send you into cardiac arrest.