Chapter Text
Two empty bottles sat lying on the floor next to Stiles as he counted his fingers and tried to force himself to wake up from this too realistic dream. Stiles let his hands fall to the wet ground as he looked up at the sky and let out soft puffs of air and counted the vast expanse of the sky.
Stiles likes to tell himself that it wasn’t his fault Derek left, this they drifted apart and that the remaining taste of honey was all in his head and that after he rubs his lips with the back of his pale hand, the taste will suddenly be gone.
But it won’t.
Sitting up slowly, the effects of the alcohol swimming throughout his body making his eyes blur, he started crying; loud, choking sobs escaping his mouth as he pulled the grass out in clumps and threw them in the air. Taking deep breathes he let the cries stop until he was sniffing through the amounts of snot gathered in his nose, ignoring the itch of dried tears on his cheeks.
Picking himself up he walked unsteadily back into his house and collapsed in the living room floor, crying with every lick he took of his lips, the overwhelming taste of honey lingering on his tongue.
After a while the sun blankets the room with a soft orange light and the patter of his mother upstairs can be heard and Stiles sits up, breathing deeply, he stands up and goes into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee.
Sometime later, after he’s done having a staring contest with his toilet, he’ll ask his mom if it gets easier and hang his head when she says, “It all depends baby love, how badly does it hurt?”
Stiles knows, deep down, that none of this was his fault and that it was bound to happen, but he can’t stop feeling that the bones in his body cave in on themselves each time he breathes.
He feels like his chest is gaping and someone is rubbing salt in the wound.
He wakes up gasping for air every now and then, the pain still as fierce when Derek said, nonchalantly, “I am breaking up with you.” And Stiles will reply the smooth curve of Derek’s pink lips forming each word. Stiles will remember the way Derek’s eyes were telling him the same as his mouth was, and Stiles will love him in the morning.