lydia is back. the werewolf thing stays a secret for now.
[ he stares at that for a couple of minutes. that. yeah, that'll work. short and to the point and hopefully not involving his potential murder in the next hour or so.
[ Derek refuses to be angry when he receives a text from Stiles and that's what he gets. He's just tired and completely done with this, but if Stiles wants to keep avoiding him then fine. He gets it. ]
All right. I think that's an incredibly bad idea and is going to end poorly when she finds out. But if that's what we're doing.
[ it feels so easy. it feels like their usual talks, like he could just reply and let him know that he agrees, that it's a stupid fucking plan and he wants to just tell her everything. as much as he wants to protect her, he learned the hard way that sometimes keeping people out of the loop hurt them even more in the end.
that last sentence makes him stop, though, and he stares at it.
he can't respond.
stiles takes the device and shoves it under his pillow, picking up another one and putting it over his head to make a frustrated noise into it. it makes sense, anyway, why would derek want to--anything with stiles, he was a fucking joke. always had been, the footnote in everyone else's stories, and nobody should like him that way anyway.
[ Derek sits there and stares at the phone for a very, very long time. Paige is rubbing against his fingers where he's holding it, oblivious to the current situation but knowing that something is wrong. She's been meowing at him and sitting at the door, like she expects Stiles to come over so that they can hang out, do obscure research about Wonderland and errant monsters that Stiles remembers from the bestiary, random shit that comes to mind.
Whenever he lets her out, she makes her way over towards the game room, still meowing, like she thinks they're going in there so Stiles can make him play more Xbox, or marathon on the TV when it's just them.
But he just goes right past the room every time, heads for the kitchen or library or just out on patrol of the grounds. Because ever since Thanksgiving, he and Isaac haven't been spending time in their shared room. He hasn't been going to the game room.
And it's fucking stupid. ]
When are we going to fix this? [ No, delete. ] Can we talk? [ No, delete. ]
[ Christ, when the hell did this happen? If you told him months ago, a year ago, that he would actually miss Stiles, he would've laughed.
Now he just tosses his phone onto the end of the bed and drops back with a heavy thud. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
god idk 1/??
stiles spends approximately ten minutes staring at his device. ]
no subject
[ no, no, too casual! too nice. delete. ]
so word on the street is that lydia
[ definitely too casual. ]
no subject
[ remember before you fucked things up and this was easy stiles??? ]
sorry for jumping you at thanksgiving no harm no fowl/foul right
[ no definitely not ERASES AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT ]
no subject
i seriously miss talking to you
and your cat
mostly the cat
no that's a lie it's you
[ omg no stop you need to focus FOCUS DAMMIT JUST SPIT IT OUT deleting all of these, too ]
one moreee
[ he stares at that for a couple of minutes. that. yeah, that'll work. short and to the point and hopefully not involving his potential murder in the next hour or so.
he hits send. ]
DONE
no subject
All right.
I think that's an incredibly bad idea and is going to end poorly when she finds out.
But if that's what we're doing.
no subject
that last sentence makes him stop, though, and he stares at it.
he can't respond.
stiles takes the device and shoves it under his pillow, picking up another one and putting it over his head to make a frustrated noise into it. it makes sense, anyway, why would derek want to--anything with stiles, he was a fucking joke. always had been, the footnote in everyone else's stories, and nobody should like him that way anyway.
god dammit, this sucks. ]
no subject
Whenever he lets her out, she makes her way over towards the game room, still meowing, like she thinks they're going in there so Stiles can make him play more Xbox, or marathon on the TV when it's just them.
But he just goes right past the room every time, heads for the kitchen or library or just out on patrol of the grounds. Because ever since Thanksgiving, he and Isaac haven't been spending time in their shared room. He hasn't been going to the game room.
And it's fucking stupid. ]
When are we going to fix this? [ No, delete. ]
Can we talk? [ No, delete. ]
[ Christ, when the hell did this happen? If you told him months ago, a year ago, that he would actually miss Stiles, he would've laughed.
Now he just tosses his phone onto the end of the bed and drops back with a heavy thud. ]