Dylan O'Brien Imagines

It's My Fault// Stiles

Losing someone important to you is like something being taken from you. Something that you can't get back. Like a hole that can't never be filled by anything or anyone. Sometimes that hole is painful, like a sort of dull pain that can't be aided. You were Allison's best friend. When she first moved to Beacon Hills, you two clicked immediately. It was like something in your life clicked, made sense. 

You always felt like you were different, that you didn't fit in anywhere. But you fit in with Allison. She made you feel like you mattered. 

When you lost her, at the beginning, it was like it didn't even phase you. Like you were numb. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it hadn't hit you yet. It was like nothing happened. You hadn't felt that hole yet.

But when it did, it was like a sharp pain just hit you and that's when the panic attacks, and the nightmares, and the depression came. 

But during that time, you grew closer to Stiles. His warm, large arms would wrap around you as you cried, holding you until you calmed down. He was feeling it too, but he always comforted you.

One night, you decided to bring a movie over to his house, Sheriff Stilinski let you in. You went upstairs and opened his door.

He was sitting on his bed, holding his face in his hands. He was crying. 

"Stiles?" you dropped you bag beside his door, walking over to him. "Hey, whats wrong?"

"It's my fault," he sniffled, wiping his nose. "It's my fault, it's all my fault."

"What is? What is all your fault?" You asked, kneeling in front of him. Looking at his face.

"Allison," he said, crying harder. "I killed her. If I hadn't of gotten in that MRI and maybe if I wouldn't have taken Scott into the woods that night, maybe things would be different. Maybe Allison would still be here."

"Stiles, no, no. This isn't your fault. Allison wasn't your fault," you grabbed his hands. "Hey, look at me. This isn't your fault. That wasn't you. It wasn't your fault."

You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, looking into his eyes. "I promise you that this isn't your fault."

He nodded in your hands before you smiled at him. "Now don't cry, you gotta save your tears for The Notebook."

You jumped to your feet, getting your laptop from your bag. "You're lucky I actually enjoy that movie."

"Cute, funny, and likes The Notebook," you smiled. "I gotta keep you."

You set up the movie, sitting beside Stiles. He put an arm around you. You leaned into his shoulder.

He leaned over and kissed your cheek. "Thanks for cheering me up."

You grinned at him, snuggling into his shoulder. "Thank you for always cheering me up."