The sunlight filtered through the trees, creating golden spots across your skin. It would've been hot outside if not for the gentle breeze the made leaves flutter down and settle in the grass. Stiles had bitched and moaned when you brought a hammock to set up. He didn't want to tie up the damn thing, make sure it's even, all that junk.

But right now? Stiles had zero regrets.

His anxiety had been running high all morning. He'd woken up super early from a night terror, nearly forgot his morning meds, his dad left for a big call on the highway, and so on and so forth. It just felt like everything was adding onto itself, creating a weight in his chest that made his heart go funny and his breathing get irregular. He'd been pacing around the house when you arrived, incapable of sitting in one spot for long.

You'd wiped his tears silently, knowing that if you said anything about it Stiles would just get defensive. Then you'd convinced him to climb in the hammock with you. You laid on your back, swaying lightly with the breeze. Stiles laid on top of you, tucked against your chest. He was finally still, staring up at you with sleepy eyes.