When (if) all this is over (it will never be over), will you go to prom with me? (Or the movies, maybe even just the park)
You see, I’ve always had this dream of us, (before all this started) standing side by side in tuxs in one of those cheesy group prom photos, (or our wedding, your choice) your tie would be green (the color suits you) mine would be blue or maybe even plaid (if you would still want to be seen with me). We would try the formal pose but the follow up picture would be me playfully trying to strangle you with your tie (now I’m scared I’d actually try to hurt you).
We’d get there and dance and maybe, just maybe, I’d sneak something from my dad’s collection of booze, and we’d get a little tipsy and I’d be brave enough to kiss you. See, by then I always figured our dates would realize how lame we were and ditch us like the losers we are. But we’d have each other and we wouldn’t really care. (You would care probably, you’re too nice to even think about disappointing anyone, I’d just be glad I had you to myself.)
I always figured you would be taken aback by me kissing you. Would you? Would you care if I kissed you again? If I asked nicely? I promise I can have manners (but only when it comes to you).
Maybe I’m being a little forward by asking you now, (but I don’t know how much longer we have left) but Scott Mccall, will you go to prom with me?
Love (I’ve never been good at holding back what I want to say), Stiles.