shy || stiles stilinski

zero ; intro

Listen to ; one of those nights, shawn mendes

Dylan Matthews was legitimately the only person ever to hate sleep. Sleep was where demons and murderers could come after her and she would be completely vulnerable. She couldn't fight them off, or stand her ground. Nightmares plagued her sleep, making it the most unpleasant time.

So, as she sat in science class, and they talked about the importance of sleep, she didn't pay attention. Albeit, she decided to make it look at like she was. But instead, she did what she'd always done. Write letters, to him. She was too shy to send them, yet, she opted to still write them. She was addled of why she would do that, but, continued anyway.

Looking at him, I know why storms are named after people

She didn't know why she wrote these letters to Stiles, she was too shy to talk to him.

Stiles Stilinski peered over her shoulder. He wondered to whom she was inscribing those letters. She was beautiful in his eyes. Light blonde hair and crystalline blue orbs. She was shy but bubbly at the same time, two things that rarely ever go together. He didn't even know her, but he knew a few things about her from her class presentations. She played soccer and ice skated, liked to draw, write, and was an insanely fast reader.

The Sheriff's son thoughts drifted to her family, whom of which he'd never seen. He was in complete awe of her and just wanted for her to let him love here, friends at the very least.

"Mister Stilinski. Pay attention, please. Open your textbook." The teacher nodded in his direction and pointed to the crimson textbook.

The whole class snickered as he slowly opened the book. Well, all the class but Dylan. Heat crept up in his cheeks, and he could feel the warmth.

"Dylan, wait!" He shouted, tripping over nothing as he tried to reach her. She halted at the sound of her name. He made it sound pure... beautiful. And she finally spoke, the first time all day.

Her voice was clear and beautiful, like a spring morning, "Um... hi?"

"I'm Stiles." The mocha - eyed boy introduced.

"I'm um, well you know that. How, I won't ask. I just want to know who put you up to this?" There had to be someone. No one ever talked to her, Besides her family of course.

"No one. Why would you think that?"

"I don't know, no one really likes me, though my mom thinks I'm pretty great." She laughed lightly at the end, leaning against her locker.

"You seem cool. We should be friends." Stiles offered, closing his own locker. She never realized his locker was alongside hers.

"I would really like that." Her voice was barely above a whisper.