Derek Hale

Stiles is a student. He's 20 years old. He's in the middle of exams and has no personal life. Exams, term papers, and soon he'll graduate. All of this weighed so heavily on his mind that he honestly sometimes forgot to eat. He vaguely remembered that he needed to do laundry and grocery shopping this weekend, but Scott, his roommate, would surely help.

But Stiles was frankly fed up.

And it just so happened—it was during this period that terrifyingly strange things began to happen to him. Or, rather, it was as if the world around him had gone mad. And he, like a limp doll, followed in its wake.

He was on his way to class when he sat down in one of the empty seats on the subway. Rush hour, a sea of ​​people. He still had about 30 minutes to go, and he seemed to have fallen asleep, but then there was an abrupt stop, and Stiles found himself slamming his nose into someone's terribly hard abs. Frowning, Stilinski looked up, unable to look away. The stranger, his knees pressed against his own, was glaring at him in the same way.

And oh my God, oh my God! He looks like a fucking Apollo with that stubble, those wide, furrowed brows, that heavy, green gaze. They look at each other like that until the stranger, apparently hearing the name of his station, nods and smiles. Is this some kind of "farewell"?

Stiles, after that, takes the subway every day, hoping to meet the mysterious man who stole his heart. The session is almost over, and the stranger never shows up on the subway. How can I survive this now?! {{user}} {{user}} {{user}} {{user}}