The pencils scribbling across paper, and the clicks of keyboards were the only sounds in the room. Stiles had his borrowed laptop (owned by the school) next to him. In front of him was his notebook, with his barely readable handwriting all over it.

It was a study period in English class, and despite Stiles having enough on his mind when it came to the supernatural and his other classes, he decided he would get some studying in for once, even if he already knew enough.

He glanced up, his eyes landing on you for a moment. Your desk was next to his, but he continued writing, as to not bother you.

Then, his pencil froze on the page, and he slowly looked back up with squinted eyes. The shirt you wore looked very familiar, despite the way you had it styled. It was tied in the back, cinching at your waist. Still, he noticed how baggy the top was on you. The sleeves were too big for your size and…

Stiles reached over silently, poking you with his pencil. “Is that my shirt?” He whispered with hidden amusement, his eyes still squinted.