i want to see melissa comfort scott again when she sees him depressed. she doesn't know details, but she thinks he's had some fallout with stiles and because she /knows/ how stiles thinks by now, she sits scott down. remember when i told you women loved words? well. it's not really about words and it's not really about women. it's about letting the people you love know that you love them. some need it more than others and if this is about who i think it is, he needs it. let him know, scott.
and he does. he does let him know. well he tells the crisp white sheet of paper slowly, one letter at a time, because he’s still not sure he knows quite how to do the feelings thing in words. every scratch of the pen feels like he can never take it back, even though stiles hasn’t read any of it yet, and his hand shakes a bit with his nerves. he thought the pen was a good choice so he wouldn’t be able to change his mind, but instead he finds himself looking at three false starts in the middle of the first paragraph. three times he tried, “
I don’t…” “ We…” “ How…”, and now it looks messy but he tries not to care, he knows stiles will be picturing his face as he was writing and will wonder what he means, so he tries one last time. finally everything pours out like a storm cloud burst, everything he ever wanted to say and couldn’t, everything he’s been afraid to put into words, all his guilt and insecurity and anxiety and pain. but most of all he makes sure to be as honest as he can. scott didn’t think he’s ever hidden anything from stiles, least of all his feelings, but now he knows better. halfway through the confessional scott realizes what he sounds like, so he decides to just admit it. writing the words is a lot easier than even putting the thought together in his mind and accepting that it’s real. i love you. i love your tiny nose and the twinkle in your eye. i love your passion and i love your anger and i love your huge huge heart. i love your voice and how it changes so subtly when you’re talking to me, only to me. i love how you guzzle milk straight from the jug, how you risk your life for the people you love. i love your spiky hair and your sarcastic grin and the little scar under your lip that nobody can see but i know is there (sometimes i want to taste it). i love how it feels when you hug me so tight i can’t breathe, because i know nobody makes you feel as safe as i do. i love that i thought things could never be the same, never be whole again after last year, but you proved me wrong.
i can’t live without you. you know i
love you but you don’t know how much.
it’s killing me that you don’t know.
i know you love me but i don’t
know if it’s good enough.
i love you stiles. i’m in love with you. i’m in love with you. i’m in love with you.
here he puts the pen down because his eyes are full of tears and he doesn’t know how to stop them. he leaves the paper on his desk to read over with a fresh mind tomorrow, to see if he’ll have the courage to ever pick it up again.