𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 | ❝ run like the wind, and see how long it takes for your problems to catch up with you.❞
oliver sanchez is a fan of running away from his problems, but when his problems start chasing him, things become complicated. 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓...
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{2.2}
"Feelings"
***
Oliver might as well have smoke coming out of his ears.
He was walking next to Stiles, his baseball bat clutched firmly between his two hands, gripping so tight that his knuckles turned white.
Stiles kept sparing him nervous looks, but since Katrin got into his head earlier, he couldn't even look at him without blushing bright red. It was an annoying habit, since Oliver was supposed to be the scary one... he just turned bright red whenever he is even mildly embarrassed.
And now... well, you could say he was mildly embarrassed.
He was more confused. He doesn't like Stiles, right? That's ridiculous, they had been best friends since they were fourteen! He couldn't like Stiles, that's... that's weird, isn't it? That would be like... Scott liking Katrin!
Another issue was that Stiles was a guy! Ollie had never liked guys before in his entire life! At least, not any time that's vivid enough for him to remember...
It's final: Oliver Sanchez does not like Stiles Stilinski.
"Okay," Stiles shot his friend a concerned look. "You're getting that 'murder' look in your eyes, and I don't like it."
"The stop looking at my eyes."
"Why do you always say that?"
Oliver snorted, still not even glancing at his friend. "Because it's an accurate statement."
"You look mad."
"Jeez, Stilinski, I wonder why."
Stiles smiled, casting Ollie another confused look when he saw the flustered expression on the Puerto-Rican boy's face. "You're being weird."
"You know what, Stiles? Everything in my life is weird, so I think I can be weird as well."
"Amen to that," Stiles held up his hand, which Ollie awkwardly slapped, immediately after clenching his fist and trying not to blush.
The boys approached Scott's house as the sun was setting, and before Ollie had the chance to knock, Stiles shook his head, quickly grabbing his wrist. "Wait-" he produced a shiny silver key from his pocket, grinning deviously. "I had one made."
Ollie couldn't help but laugh. That sentence was so typically Stiles it hurt. "Of course you did, you weirdo."
"You're the weirdo, you weirdo." Stiles shot back, before quickly fitting his key into the lock, opening the door and hefting his big bag of supplies over his shoulder, creeping into the house. Ollie followed, shutting the door behind them as quietly as he could, although their efforts to not be noticed we fruitless.
