Dylan O'Brien Imagines

I Noticed You // Stiles Stilinski

A/N: I didn't originally intend on posting this, as I more so wrote it to help me get over a thing, so this is in first person pov rather than my usual second person.

The soles of my shoes scuffed against the pavement mockingly as I blindly stumbled over the threshold, immersing myself into the chilly afternoon air. Waves of tears incessantly poured from my eyes, effectively blurring my vision. I brought the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands in attempts to strengthen my view of my surrounding environment, that which suffocated me within my own thoughts and insecurities. They don't listen, they don't care. Each trial of defense, of success, proving futile considering the state I was in.

Through the haze of emotion, I heard a voice, uncertain, yet genuinely concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

Embarrassed that I had been caught in the act of sobbing in consternation, I quickly scrubbed my cheeks dry before taking a peek at this curious stranger. Except, they were no stranger. Yes, I knew this guy.

This guy just so happened to be in a couple of my classes at our mutual college, Beacon Hills University. While I was only taking said courses as a means of acquiring credits and due to mere interest, his motives for signing up were steered by an ardent passion for the subject matter. During lectures, I couldn't help but let my gaze wander to the specimen, amber eyes alit with intrigue as he hung onto every last word. He tried to write as much information as humanly possible, still opting for pencil and paper, even as the rest of our classmates, myself included, seamlessly transferred the professor's knowledge to an open document on our laptops. And, to top it all off, he went by the name Stiles Stilinski.

He was fascinating, to say the least. Still, I found myself bashfully avoiding eye contact with him as I gave my half-hearted response. "Yeah, it's nothing."

He quietly chuckled to himself, insisting that he remains in my presence with his next words. "You sure about that? because your whole vibe you've got going on proves that it's anything but."

I forced a watery, tight-lipped smile as I finally made eye contact with him. God, his eyes are even more beautiful up close. He's even more beautiful up close. "I'll be fine, promise. Thanks for checking in though, you didn't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to, it's just my duty as a decent human being to make sure you're okay."

This pulled a laugh out of me. A weak laugh at that, but still a laugh. He seemed to smile at the reaction he managed to bring me.

A beat of silence passed us by, before he opened his mouth again, speaking in an almost uncertain tone. "You wanna help me with something? My jeep, non-surprisingly, malfunctioned a couple houses down—" he gestured towards the baby blue vehicle that stood where he depicted. "It's gonna take a minute to get it working again, and I'm thinking both of us could benefit from the company. You in?"

Whether it was just an excuse to spend more time with me or not, the offer caused a wider grin to tug at my lips. "Lead the way."

"Um, what the hell is this?" I was definitely no expert on automotive repair, but I was fairly certain that duct tape wasn't common equipment one carried in their tool box. I weighed the mostly used roll in my hands, it's silver sheen glinting under the setting sun.

"Duct tape," My new companion answered simply, taking what looked like normal repair tools and getting to work on his vehicle.

I gave him a deadpan look, miraculously beginning to let go of my sadness and redirect that energy towards our banter. "I'm aware. But, what's it doing with all of your car tools?"

"Well, sometimes—" he grunted out these words as he reached a particularly difficult step in his repair plans. "—nothing solves your problems more efficiently than a bit of duct tape. Like, here, hand it over."