The bedroom was pitch black. The velvet curtains were drawn over the window which would have let in a stream of moonlight, but the light was just a cold reminder of happiness, and that was the last emotion the boy lying in bed felt. The television had been shut off, the only noise coming from the sobbing of a young boy, curled in his bed, fighting to put the little voice in his head at ease.
“You’re a loser!” The demonic voice antagonized. “You’re a piece of shit. That’s why your mother died. She smelled failure on you and got out quick before she was stuck. Why do you think Derek hates you? It’s because you’re worthless and ugly. Who wants a scrawny little twig like you? You can’t even get Lydia and she’s a dope!”
“Shut up!” Stiles cried out in tears.
The inner voice in his head had been haunting him for as long as he could remember.
Maybe it all started when his mother passed. That was the darkest time for Stiles. His father was always working at the station, and all he had was his conscience to keep him company.
Even so, Stiles' once and only friend had made a dreadful turn for the worst. Of course he had Scott, but even Scott wouldn’t understand the complexity which was Stiles. He was layered, like an onion. Stiles was more than the sarcastic, funny boy everyone knew him of being. He was actually bashful and mute when it came to expressing his inner emotions.
Stiles was depressed more than ever. He used a pillow to cover his ears, which was a waste of time. The voice was in Stiles' head, and in no way was it disappearing now. Stiles was at his lowest, and the demon fed on the his unhappiness.
The night was dying but the voice was more alive than ever. It had been taunting and hurting Stiles, and Stiles had no choice but to endure it. He even agreed that he would never end up with Derek, for who could ever love a beast like him?
Stiles spent another restless night fighting with his demon, and before he knew it, his alarm clock rang on the nightstand. He turned it off with a bang.
To his dismay, it was Saturday and he had the entire day alone. Scott was still drooling over Allison, and his father was sure to be working another long shift at the station. Stiles fell back into his bed, his eyes still red from the night before.
“You don’t even have a life,” the demon rambled. “Boo-hoo, my name is Stiles Stilinski and I’m all alone. Boo-hoo!”
“Shut the fuck up . . . shit! Leave me alone already!”
“I’m never going to leave you alone." Demon laughed.
Restless and distraught, Stiles thought if he opened the window the demon would disappear from the sunlight. He staggered out of bed to test his theory.
A strong sunshine lit up the corners of his room, revealing his queen sized bed, desk filled with late homework, computer and school bag, and dresser with a television centered in the middle.
“Still here.”
Stiles punched the wall, tiredly resting his forehead against it. He was tired, irritated and getting more depressed. Stiles couldn’t take it anymore.
He took a hot shower which lasted close to an hour, dressed in a loose plaid, buttoned shirt, showing the top of his chest, and a pair of ripped jeans.
Finding a need to escape, Stiles jumped into his jeep, heading anywhere into the unknown.
The sky was muggy and gray. There was a light drizzle in the air. Stiles drove out of the neighborhood onto a long stretch of road that he had no idea where it led to. He turned the radio on full blast, drowning out the evil chuckles and rants inside of his head.
Along the way, the road turned into a rocky trail, and although it was inevitable to admit to himself, Stiles' destination was always on his mind.
Behind two corner trees, a broken down house appeared. When Stiles realized he had stumbled across the Hale house, he slammed on the brakes and put the jeep in reverse.
“What are you doing here?”
A voice appeared out of thin air.
Although it was a shame to admit, Stiles knew exactly who the voice belonged to. A deep enthralling voice, one he heard continuously in his dreams. Well, when he was able to sleep.
Stiles peered towards the house, tracking down the owner to that melodic voice. However, he jumped when realizing Derek was standing beside him, staring inside of the jeep.
Derek was covered in a layer of sweat. His thin shirt stuck to his body like an extra layer of skin.
Stiles couldn’t contain the small whimper passing through his lips.
Derek tilted his head, a petulant expression stained on his face.
“Stiles,” Derek said, hard, “what are you doing here?”
Blushing, Stiles looked to the Hale house, scared to show Derek the sudden change of color spreading across his cheeks.
Stiles avoided Derek’s strong gaze and contemplated his answer, but it always got mixed up with the words of his demon.
“Tell him,” the demon uttered. “Tell him what you want from him . . . what you want him to do to you. Tell him, you pathetic coward.”
The demon laughed.
“Watch as Derek looks at you repulsed. Listen to him as he automatically says no. After all, who would say yes? You, Stiles Stilinski are ugly, worthless.”
Stiles slumped, ashamed. Even if he wanted to disagree with everything the demon said, there was some truth. Who could ever love him? He had never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. He was unattractive to both sexes. The thought made Stiles even more depressed.
“Who is it that?” Derek asked, all of a sudden. “Is Scott with you?”
Derek leaned through the window his face an inch away from Stiles.
Stiles froze at the close proximity, smelling Derek’s sweet scent that had him whimpering again.
Derek looked confused, meeting Stiles’ light brown eyes.
“I swore someone else was just talking.”
“No one was talking, Derek.” Other than Demon . . . Wait, could Derek here his conscience thinking?
Stiles' blush drained into a murky white. He was completely embarrassed, and turned on his car before the demon had the chance to confess Stiles’ feelings for Derek.
“I gotta go,” Stiles stuttered. Reversing, he almost beheaded Derek during the process.
Derek moved away just in time, standing completely still. His face confused more than ever.
Stiles reversed until hitting the road, making a swift U-turn home. He hadn’t eaten anything all day and stopped through a drive thru burger joint, ordering a double cheeseburger, fries and a large coke.
Stiles parked in the driveway, taking his horde of food to his room and slammed the door, keeping the lights off and heading straight for his bed.
Stiles clicked on the television to Adventure Time and laid out his food in front of him.
Halfway into his burger, he called Scott. Again, there was no answer.
“You’re going to die alone,” Demon roared; Stiles tried ignoring the voice by turning up the volume louder. “No one to love poor, ugly Stiles.”
“Just shut up," Stiles pleaded. Please."
“Beg like a little bitch. Beg like the little bitch you are.”
“Please?” Stiles' voice strained. “Please just leave me alone.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay?”
A velvet voice appeared, making Stiles jump in his seat.
Stiles searched around his room and noticed his window was open. Standing in the darkest corner of the room, Derek’s pale face appeared with strong, red like eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Stiles throat went dry.
“Ah --- that seems to be on both of our minds.”