wild | stiles stilinski ✅

| TWO |

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Normally, therapy sessions were one of Ash's favorite activities in Eichen House. In his defense, there weren't anything remotely enjoyable compared to this. Naturally rather than spending a day tied down to a bed, he preferred to just talking, hearing unusual stories from extraordinary people.

Even since he was a little kid, Ash had a passion about hearing new stories. Until the time he was able to read, his father used to read him books for hours. However Ash's favorites were those stories his dad made up by his own, mixing his real life with imagination. These were kind of a ritual for the two, his mother was already terrible at making her own tales, and it was just special for them. Surely the amount of time his dad was spending on telling stories to him decreased over the time when he learned how to read. But they never stopped completely.

Therefore, every time someone started sharing their stories, even how absurd and unrealistic they sounded, Ash paid close attention. All his life, they had told him that he had a colorful imagination. When he was little, this adjective sounded like a blessing, something that his parents were proud of. For the past few years, it started feeling like a curse because according to all these people, he was not just imaginative, he also had difficulties separating real life from his imagination.

That was what they've been telling him, that's why they didn't even let him touch a pen and paper. Every time someone didn't believe in him, something inside him broke. Listening to all these people was a way of helping others, letting them know that Ash was believing in them.

Therefore, therapy sessions with Ms. Morrell was one of his favorite way of making friends and spending time in general. But not that day.

That day, a significant someone was standing three people away with a confused and exhausted expression on his face. On the other hand Ash was confused too but he was also utterly terrified and slightly giddy inside.

After all Ash and Stiles Stilinski were in the same room, breathing the same air.

People were talking all around him and for the first time in so long, Ash was not paying attention. At all. His mind was occupied with several thoughts, he zoned out as he rested his chin on his closed hand, leaning forward on his seat.

Normally, he would've been plain happy because finally one of them was here - obviously besides Malia since she was just getting in to the story.

However he was freaking out inside not just because it was Stiles, also because he hadn't written this scene yet. How could that happen? The whole point was the fact that he knew everything before the time of occurrence. Sometimes he started writing just before the McCall pack started living that moment, sometimes he wrote it way earlier.

He never wrote it afterwards.

"Ash!" The blue eyed boy raised his chin the moment he finally realized all eyes were fixed on him. Malia was the one to poke him a little by his right side and she had a confused look on her face.

"What was the question, Ms. Morrell?" Ash chewed on his bottom lip as he leaned back, he glanced at Stiles for a second and his cheeks flushed when he realized he was watching him as well.

Forcing himself to look at Ms. Morrell, Ash tried to shook his thoughts off, focusing on that particular moment. "I asked our new friend, Stiles, a question." Brief second the attention swept on the hazel eyed boy, Ash watched his discomfort very closely before all the heads turn to him again. "The question was; 'how does guilt make you feel?' His answer was, nervous. Would you mind sharing your opinion too?"