Stiles Stilinski Imagines

Worry

I wake up with a start, the sound of ringing filling my ears. I calm my breathing as I try to unblur my eyes by rubbing them. The doorbell.

I sigh and check my phone, reading the time. It's only one in the morning.

I groan and push myself off the couch, heading to see who disturbed my sleep. I swing open the door and meet worried, hazel eyes.

"What the hell Stiles?" I grumble, fixing my hair. Before I realize what's happening, I'm engulfed in his arms. His right arm wrapped around me and his left hand carefully holding my head.

"Thank God." I hear him whisper and let out a sigh. I can feel him slightly shake and my worry grows.

I pull away and look up at him. "Why are you so freaked?"

He shrugs. "You weren't answering your phone."

"Yeah, I guess I fell asleep studying." I motion back the the living room, the coffee table full of textbooks and paper. He looks over and makes an 'oh' with his mouth. I glance back up at him, not positive he was telling the full truth. "Why were you calling?"

His eyes turn to look at the ground. "I-uh.." I watch his chest rise and fall quickly. I softly grab one of his hands and his eyes soon lock back with mine. "I had a nightmare. You-uh... you died. Werewolf."

I frown. "I thought you didn't have those anymore?" He shrugs again. I sigh and wrap my arms around him, bringing him into another hug. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt. I'm alive." I feel him relax.

"Please pick up next time so I don't have to drive all the way across town." He pulls away and rests his hands on each side of my face. "Okay? I love you and I sometimes worry too much."

I smile softly. "I'll try and I know." I smirk, making him laugh. "I love you too."