"Stiles," I jumped when I saw him standing in the doorway. "What. . . What are you doing here?"
"I'm stopping you," he said between breaths sounding like he ran here.
"Stopping me? From what?"
"From leaving," he said, finally catching his breath. I bit my lip as he walked into my room until he was standing in front of me, an arms length away. "Scott told me that you were leaving, so I'm here to stop you."
"Stiles," I sighed putting the shirt I was still holding into my suitcase.
"Why are you leaving?" Stiles asked, before I could say anything else.
I didn't answer him. Instead, I walked past him to grab a few things from my closet. As I passed him he grabbed my arm, stopping me.
"Y/N," he said softly giving me chills. "Why are you leaving? Is it. . . Is it because of me?" His voice broke, causing my heart to do the same.
"No," I said quickly, turning towards him. "This has nothing to do with you, Stiles. It's just. . ." I sighed.
"Just what?" He asked softly as his hands slid down my arms until his fingers were intertwined with mine. "Please," he pleaded not breaking eye contact. "Talk to me."
"I can't," I whispered, my voice broke as I held back tears. I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around myself, my back facing him.
"Why can't you talk to me?"
I whispered my answer, too soft for him to hear. "Y/N," he sighed. "Why can't you tell me what's going on?"
"Because you wouldn't understand," I said quickly, turning around.
"I wouldn't. . ." Stiles stuttered. He looked at me, his eyes begging me to explain. "What are you talking about? What wouldn't I understand?"
I bit my lip, not wanting to explain. Stiles took a few steps toward me until he was right in front of me. "Y/N," he sighed. He grabbed my hands, intertwining our fingers. "Please."
I looked down at our hands, knowing that I wouldn't be able to say what I needed to say with his brown eyes staring down at me.
"You wouldn't understand why I'm leaving," I whispered. I finally looked up at him with tears in my eyes. "None of you would."
"Why are you leaving?"
"Because. . ." I stuttered. "Because I can't do this anymore. . . I can't. . . I'm not. . . I'm not strong enough to stay."
"Not strong enough?" He asked. I slowly backed away from him, our hands disconnecting and falling to our sides.
"I'm not like Scott. Or Isaac. Or Malia. Or Kira. Or Liam. I can't do the things that they can do. . . I'm just. . .normal."
"But Y/N," Stiles said with a small chuckle as he stepped forward. "I'm normal too."
"No," I shook my head taking a few steps back before he could try and grab my hands again. "No, you're not. You're not normal Stiles. You're smart. You always have a plan. You always have an answer for every problem that we come up against. You contribute to the pack. . . I don't."
"What are you talking about, Y/N? Of course you contribute to the pack."
"Really?" I scoffed. "What exactly is it that I bring to the group? Other than deadweight?"
"You are not deadweight, Y/N." Stiles said firmly.
"Well, I'm not a werewolf. I'm not a werecoyote. I'm not a sword-wielding fox. I can't shape-shift. I don't have supernatural powers, so what am I?"
I watched as Stiles hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Exactly," I scoffed as more tears streamed down my cheeks.
I started to walk away, but gasped when I felt him grab my wrist. He spun me around and quickly pressed his lips to mine. I felt like the room was spinning as our lips moved in sync. He pulled away and looked at me with soft eyes.
"You're my best friend, Y/N. You're the reason I work so hard to come up with a plan. Without you, I couldn't keep going. I need you, Y/N. I love you."
"I love you too, Stiles." I said without a second of hesitation.
"Then don't leave. Please, Y/N. Don't leave me. If you left. . . I would go out of my freaking mind."
I reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand as his eyes started to water. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close.
"Please," he pleaded as he buried his face in the crock of my neck.
"I'm not going anywhere."