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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{1.1}
"Feeling Faint."
***
"How long have we been here? Do you think Scott got shot?"
Ollie was slumped lazily on the floor next to Stiles, as Derek angrily stumble-paced like a drunk person. His arm was slung over his knees, and he was beginning to grow concerned for his friend's safety after the phone went silent. So now, the two friends were focusing on keeping an eye on Derek as Ollie's anxiety slowly began to kick in. "Do you think Allison would shoot Scott?"
"I'm gonna shoot Scott if he doesn't show up soon."
"Hey, not funny."
Derek groaned again, leaning against the table and screwing his eyes shut in pain, his hand clenching. Oliver rolled his eyes, "can you shut up?"
"We don't have much time."
"Yeah, we can see that without all of the sound effects."
The boy shot up from the ground, deciding that if he didn't move soon he would actually explode. He paced back and forth across the room, anxiously tugging at his curls and muttering under his breath. Stiles watched cautiously, his eyes following Ollie as he paced to make sure he didn't punch something. Stiles could hear him chanting something in Spanish, but he was talking too fast to make out anything that actually passed through his lips. "Um, Ols?"
He received no response, so he rolled his eyes. "Ollie?"
"What if the crazy gun lady actually did shoot him?" Oliver stressed, his heart beat picking up.
"Then we call the paramedics and blame it on Derek!" Stiles winced when the man himself shot him a harsh look. "Sorry."
Oliver continued to pace. He wasn't someone who got nervous a lot, but the combined stress of everything that has been going on in his life is pressing down on his shoulders like a hot iron. He was thankful that he didn't have his baseball bat, as he would probably hit something with it if he did.
Derek watched with thoughtful eyes as Oliver held up his hand as if he was going to slap Stiles, and the boy lazily swatted it away. "Come here."
"What?" The Spanish boy turned to Derek, his face twisted in a scowl. The man winced again, and Ollie was tempted to just cut off his arm to get him to stop, but instead, he just walked closer when Derek beckoned him. "Jesus! What the hell do you want?"
