I've been in love with her since the third grade but I won't give up on her even though I'm completely aware of the unshakable love and dedication she holds for Jackson. It's not masochism, more like a constant heartache I've been trying to get rid of for a while. [Stiles clapped a hand over his mouth after the word vomit finished spewing, eyes wide with horror. What the hell.]
Umhm uh hrgn gah hm - ! [More words tried to force their way out of his throat but he kept his hand locked over his mouth.]
My entire life is sad. I'm pathetic and I know it. [Stiles' hand rips itself violently away from his mouth as he's forced to answer. He's not sure what's going on but he knows it couldn't have come at a worse time - or with a worse person, for that matter. But that was just his life.] I'm used to it.
More like a lot. Entirely, actually. I just suck in general.
[And wow, what the hell had opened this floodgate? To Derek, of all people? Werewolves and Kanimas and magic, evidently. Stiles tried to think if he'd willingly ingested any suspicious pumpkin juice lately.]
[The hyperactive smartassery that came as second nature to Stiles was all he knew too, or rather, cared to think about; he felt exposed without it.
As if Derek Hale, intimidating-Werewolf-extraordinaire, didn't already somehow manage to get under his skin and see past a lot of his bullshit - now he didn't even have any bullshit.]
I hang around with a group of werewolves that will probably eat me at some point in the future when I stop being useful; I have severe attention problems that screw me over a lot; I can't stop talking to save my life and most people hate me -
[Maybe if his eyes plead enough, Derek will give him a mercy killing. Nice and fast, not a lot of pain. But then, when has Derek ever had that kind of compassion, especially for him?]
- and I could go on but I'm also pretty sure I've been cursed or something.
That seems like the logical assumption, yes. [The words flew out and Stiles was powerless to stop them; this was worse than his lack of brain-to-mouth filter. He could feel an itch building, urging him to release every secret he'd ever had and holy hell he was so not doing that.] I might need you to kill me.
I'm about to spill my soul to you, I'd probably die of embarrassment first. You'd be saving me the pain. [Stiles attempted to stick his fist in his mouth, eyes widening at Derek's follow-up sentence and subsequent grin.] Oh God. What could you possibly want to know?
Chains are fun. [Woah, not what Stiles had wanted to say, not at all, and definitely not that chipper.] They don't work too well against werewolves though...
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Umhm uh hrgn gah hm - ! [More words tried to force their way out of his throat but he kept his hand locked over his mouth.]
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[And wow, what the hell had opened this floodgate? To Derek, of all people? Werewolves and Kanimas and magic, evidently. Stiles tried to think if he'd willingly ingested any suspicious pumpkin juice lately.]
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As if Derek Hale, intimidating-Werewolf-extraordinaire, didn't already somehow manage to get under his skin and see past a lot of his bullshit - now he didn't even have any bullshit.]
I hang around with a group of werewolves that will probably eat me at some point in the future when I stop being useful; I have severe attention problems that screw me over a lot; I can't stop talking to save my life and most people hate me -
[Maybe if his eyes plead enough, Derek will give him a mercy killing. Nice and fast, not a lot of pain. But then, when has Derek ever had that kind of compassion, especially for him?]
- and I could go on but I'm also pretty sure I've been cursed or something.
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what?
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