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"Is anyone here?" was the first thing Stiles said when Derek opened the door and Stiles barged in to Derek's loft.
Derek closed the door and stared at Stiles, dumbfounded. "What?"
"Is anyone else here or are you alone?" Stiles spoke fast. Derek would have been able to tell that Stiles was clearly anxious even if he could not feel it through chemosignals.
"No one is here," Derek replied.
Stiles nodded. "Okay. Alright, good. We should talk."
"Stiles, I don't think that is a g–”
"Derek, shut up. God, I don't know whether to punch you because I am so goddamn angry at you right now or to kiss you because I fucking love you!"
Derek's heart stopped. No. He did not just hear what he thought he did. Stiles did not just confess his love for him for the first time. He definitely didn't catch that right.
He looked at Stiles in absolute shock; Stiles' face mirrored his expression, but it had more horror than surprise.
It wasn't like the fact that Stiles loved him was new information to him. He had always known that. Stiles just had not ever said it before with those exact words. And it also wasn't like he didn't love Stiles back. He did, and he had said it as well.
The moment did not last long, though, as Stiles broke the silence. He spoke anxiously fast, "You know what, you're right. It probably isn't a good idea. I shouldn't have taken advice from Erica, anyway. So. I'm just gonna go. You can forget any of this even happened and just go back to your brooding or whatever it is that you do in your free time, meanwhile I–"
"Stiles," Derek said as he placed his hand on Stiles' arm, who was walking towards the door while speaking rapidly.
"Derek. You're right, it was a bad idea. The worst idea ever. So if you'll just excuse–”
Derek interrupted him again, as he said more firmly this time, "Stiles."
Stiles stopped and looked at Derek. "What?"
Derek realised that he was still firmly holding Stiles' arm so he let go and said, "We should talk. You should… you should let it out. I know you have things you need to say, so don't hold it in now."
Whatever effect Derek thought his words would have, it wasn't this. Stiles looked angry. Angrier than what he had been before when he came.
"Wow, Derek. You walk away from me on your own terms, not even giving me one fucking chance to tell you if I agree with you, and then you ask me to talk because you think I need it? God, I hate you."
Derek was at a loss of words. He opened his mouth to speak, to call out Stiles' name but no sound came out.
Stiles continued like he hadn't noticed Derek's attempt at speaking at all. "Except that we both know that isn't true. I mean, I just fucking said it. You know I don't hate you. You know I can't. But I don't think you know how fucking difficult it has been for me to even breathe, since you walked away. You walked away, Derek. You left. Meanwhile I've been trying to fill the fucking void, somehow. But I can't keep doing this, Derek. I can't– I can't go on like this. I can't keep kissing strangers, and pretending that they're you. I can't keep pretending to everyone that my heart doesn't take a leap whenever someone says your name. I can't keep replaying that fucking night in my head over and over again, even though I can't seem to stop. I just– I can't." Stiles' voice broke towards the end.
Stiles was breathing a bit heavily, and his eyes were glassy. Derek swallowed the lump in his throat. This was his fault. He had broken Stiles' heart. He had hurt Stiles, which was the last thing he would ever want to do.
Stiles looked at him for another moment before turning his head and walking towards the door again. But this time, Derek did not stop him. This time, he let Stiles walk away. This time, he let his heart break.