It started as a normal night at the Hale house—well, as normal as nights could get in Beacon Hills.

You were investigating strange disturbances in the forest, notebook in hand, when a dark energy slammed into you like a wall of ice. The world twisted, your thoughts became scattered… and then a voice—not your own—slipped past your lips.

“Stiles… I’ve always—”

Your heart skipped. You froze mid-step. That voice wasn’t yours. But somehow… somehow, it felt like the truth.

You stumbled, clutching your head, the shadows in the room bending and writhing like they had a mind of their own.

“Y/N?” Stiles’s voice cut through the darkness. He was standing in the doorway, eyes wide, flashlight shaking slightly in his hand.

You tried to speak, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them:

“I’ve always loved you, Stiles… always.”

The possession laughed, a hollow, echoing sound, and you crumpled to the floor. Stiles dashed forward, catching you before you hit the ground.

“Hey! Hey, hey—snap out of it!” His hands gripped your shoulders, warm and real, grounding you.

The shadows receded, leaving only your shaking body and Stiles’s frantic expression. You blinked, heart hammering, realizing what you’d said.

You scrambled back, embarrassment burning your cheeks. “I—uh—I didn’t mean… that was—”

But Stiles didn’t let go. His eyes were wide, searching yours. “Wait… did you just…?”

You buried your face in your hands. “I—never mind. Forget it. Please.”

For the next few days, you avoided him, ducking down halls, hiding behind bookshelves, refusing to meet his eyes.

But Stiles… he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Every time he closed his locker, every time he passed your favorite hangout spot, your words echoed in his mind:

I’ve always loved you… always.

He replayed it over and over, the way your voice had trembled, the way your eyes had glimmered with something softer than fear.

And one night, after everyone else had left the school library, Stiles found you, notebook open, pretending to study.

“Y/N,” he said softly, sitting across from you. “I can’t… stop thinking about what you said.”

You froze, heart leaping. “Stiles, I—”

He held up a hand. “No, just… let me hear it again. Please. I need to know it’s real.”