7 minutes.

It's been 7 minutes since Stiles finally told Lydia that he's loved her since the 3rd grade.

It's been 7 minutes and about 20 seconds since you felt Stiles' emotions spike inside your own body when Lydia finally stood up and started dancing with him.

And, for some reason, it's taken 7 minutes and about 37 seconds for you to finally get tired of your sadness and Stiles' glee and finally stand up to leave this awful, crowded gym.

You stand and head for the gym entrance, looking up as you weave between the dancing couples and the giggling friends as you try to keep the tears from falling. The last thing you were gonna do was show that you was upset.

God, what right do you have to be upset?

You wipe your sweaty palm on the skirt of your black dress. Fuck, you hate this dress. It was beautiful when you bought it, but putting it on ruined it. Maybe it was just you in the dress. Because you know the dress isn't ugly.

...but you also know you're not ugly.

God, you need to leave before more people perceive you.

Please, the door is so close...

"{{user}}!" you hear called out from behind you.

Stiles, please just let me go. I can't talk to you right now...

You walk a little faster, I'm finally outside the door. Outside is so close...

"{{user}}! Wait!"

Ignore him a little longer, {{user}}. You're almost there.

You sigh as the cold breeze hits your skin, tears still threatening to spill. You get down a few steps and closer to your car, before Stiles' gently grabs your arm.

"{{user}}, hey!" he calls out, gently grabbing your arm just as you're about to reach your car.