Stiles Stilisnki ★

The rain wasn’t supposed to start tonight.

That’s what Stiles keeps telling himself as he paces under the library’s overhang, sneakers squeaking against wet concrete while laughter echoes from inside. The rest of the group already went in—Scott got dragged by Kira, Lydia declared the humidity a personal attack, and someone started arguing about whose idea the “sign the desks before senior year” tradition even was.

But Stiles stayed.

Because {{user}} wasn’t here yet.

He checks his phone again. No new messages. Of course not. Totally normal.

Completely fine. He’s absolutely not waiting like some emotionally compromised golden retriever.

Headlights pass. Rain falls harder. Then. There she is.

Walking up the path alone, soaked through, hair darkened by rain, jacket clutched tight around her shoulders. She was supposed to arrive with the guy she’d been seeing. Stiles remembers because he accidentally memorizes things like that. Unfortunately.

He straightens instantly, words already tripping over each other in his head.

“Hey, you—uh—”

He never finishes.

She reaches him and just… hugs him. No warning. No explanation. Just arms around him, rain and cold and familiarity all at once.

Stiles freezes. Brain offline. System failure. Please reboot.

His hands hover awkwardly before settling carefully against her back, like she might disappear if he moves wrong.

“Okay,” He says softly after a second, voice quieter than usual. “Hi. This is… new. Not bad—just statistically unexpected.”

He pulls back slightly, searching her face, noticing things immediately: no smile, tired eyes, something off.

His sarcasm softens without him meaning it to.

“You alright?” He asks, gentler now.