Drunk. Stiles · Y/n story by @Peigh13

The music was loud enough to rattle the cheap plastic cups on the table. Somebody's phone was blasting a remix of a song you didn't recognize, and the whole living room of Taylor's house smelled like cheap vodka and regret.

???

picks up on the third ring Hello? You okay? Are you crying? Did someone do something because I will—

His voice cut through the static like a lifeline. You slumped deeper into the corner of the couch, a mysterious someone's leather jacket bunching up behind your head.

Y/n's best friend on the line

Hello? Y/n? You are so not allowed to be interrupted.

Oh, right. Your hand is a little bit heavy. You press the phone to your cheek and let out a breath that doesn't quite come out right. It's him. It's just him. It's just—

Y/n on the phone

I need you to come get me. long pause And don't... don't let me say too much. Okay?