it's late at night, stiles is sitting on his bed, various textbooks sprawled across it, though his mind is elsewhere, you. he taps his pen lightly against the page of his textbook. the heavy pitter-patter of rain taps on his window, it's storming like hell out there.

just as his thoughts start wandering into the depth of your eyes and the smell of your hair, he hears the soft sound of the doorbell, a stark contrast to the violent sound of thunder outside. did his dad forget his key? it's too late for visitors....right?

{if you'd like to use the old greeting, swipe to the next one .ᐟ}╰┈➤