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."
Doing as he said, I watched in equal parts fascination and confusion as a simple car engine became his silver canvas. Tearing off piece after piece of the sticky adhesive, he worked it into heavy layers that had no choice but to work in his favor. Sending a look that resembled sarcastic pride my way, he got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.
Only for nothing to happen.
Disappointment and bewilderment clouded his gaze, before trying the ignition again. The jeep simply sputtered in response.
I couldn't help the smug grin that swept over my features as he trudged his way back to me at the front of the vehicle. He pointed a finger at me. "Be quiet."
"I didn't say anything!" I defended, holding my hands up in silent laughter.
"Yeah, and you shouldn't. I must've made a mistake pre-duct tape."
"Right, there was nothing wrong with the duct tape bit."
Throwing a glare at me, which carried no real heat, he got back to work on his jeep. I leaned closer to him as he navigated through a second attempt, resting my arms on the side of this blue piece of junk. Something tells me this happens to him a lot.
"You, uh, you go to BHU right?" He asked as if he didn't already know the answer, busying himself in continuing to detect the issue with his jeep. "I mean, not to sound like a creep or anything, it's just that—"
"Yeah, I go there." I smiled kindly, interrupting so as to save him from a rambling fit that I could almost sense he was about to launch into.
"Oh, cool, because I actually go there, too, and I think I've seen you around."
"Yeah, we have a couple of crim classes together." I mentioned, quite nervously, worried that the speculation would make me the creep. My comment caused almost the opposite to happen, however, as his eyes finally found mine. The prolonged contact didn't last long, as he got back to work just as quickly as he stopped.
"We do." He agreed, and, although I could be wrong, it looked like he was fighting off a giant grin that wanted a home in his lips. "I—um—I wasn't sure if you noticed me or not."
"Of course I noticed you." I answered instantly, softly, feeling my cheeks heat up at the expediency of my response. His face went pink, too, peeking up at me with a shy smile. I would be lying if I didn't say it was the cutest thing I had ever seen. "So, uh, you've noticed me too then, huh?"
He gently scoffed, sparing another glance at me, although this time there was more humor twinkling in his eyes. "How couldn't I? You clearly garner at least some interest in a topic I never shut up about. You're also super adorable, which is a giant plus. You're the only thing in all of those classes we share that's actually able to distract me, something that I thought was damn near impossible. So, yeah, I've definitely noticed you, too."
"Wow," I said, breathlessly, unable to say much else. My heart warmed at his endless stream of words, not having been witness to such admiration before.
"Oh, god. Too much?" He began to panic, clearly taking my state of wordless awe as a bad sign, that he had possibly overstepped. "Yeah, that was too much. Sorry, I just can't help it sometimes. You see, I have this thing called chronic anxiety which causes me to nauseatingly ramble on and on and on without ever finding a proper way to—"
"It's okay, Stiles," I reassured with a chuckle, placing a comforting squeeze to his forearm in efforts to cease his worries. "It wasn't too much at all. If anything, it was just enough."
"You know my name?" He questioned quietly, quickly coming down from the anxiety high that led to his boisterous babbling, thanks to my unintentional distraction.
"Oh, please," I decided to tease him, feeling at ease enough around him to do so. "Stiles Stilinski? Who can forget a name like that?"
"Fair enough," he responded earnestly, chuckling along with me nonetheless as he detected the humor in my tone. "Y/N Y/L/N."
We shared a sweet smile that had some other secret ingredient mixed in, like the exchange was our little secret. It was reserved for us, and nobody else. The curiosity of what his lips would feel like on mine suddenly dazzled in my mind. My eyes subconsciously drifted down to his smile, before stubbornly flicking away from him entirely. I didn't want to rush things, given the hope that I was reading into this correctly.
Stiles must have looked away, too, for he was suddenly rearing back in surprise at the sight of the wonky engine that sat at his mercy. "Okay, I think I may have actually fixed it this time."
He started for the driver's seat once more, only I made the bold move of pressing a small kiss to his cheek before he could fully leave my side. I simply grinned up at the expression of beautiful wonder on his face. "For good luck."
A grin that could rival that of the Cheshire Cat roamed free on his lips, cheeks turning the prettiest shade of pink. Bringing a hand up to the nape of his neck, likely a nervous habit of his, he got into the jeep again and tried the ignition.
Similar to before, the engine choked in its refusal to start.
My face scrunched into what I assume mirrored a sympathetic grimace as I observed the vivid frustration that shone in Stiles's eyes.
Once again, he trudged back to greet me at the vehicle's bonnet.
"I should call someone," he muttered in defeat, reaching to retrieve his phone from his coat pocket.
"Well, that was all kind of a waste, huh?" I tried joking in hopes to brighten his spirits, much like he had done with me.
He stopped to ponder for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but it cheered you up, didn't it?"
I smiled.