Normally at three in the morning, you'd either be dead asleep or so preoccupied in your internet habits that you don't even realize that even the birds are asleep. But tonight was a different night. Sighing, you glanced at the root of your change in habits, Stiles Stilinski. With how you did things, you normally wouldn't let a guy into your house this late at night; but since you were home alone tonight, you figured letting your drunk best friend over wouldn't hurt.
"You- you're such a good friend, _." Stiles said, a goofy smile plastered on his pale face. "I know," you replied tiredly, propping your elbow up on the table and then placing your chin in the palm of your hand. Your (e/c) scanned Stiles, wondering exactly what was going through his mind when he decided to get shit-faced drunk. But then again, the last time Stiles got this way was when Scott had his breakup with Alyson. And since you knew the two were doing - in your terms 'okay' - the sight in front of you made you wonder...
"B-but you know who else is good?" Stiles asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. From the smile on his face to the way his eyes began to light up, only one name crossed your mind.
"Lydia." You both said simultaneously. The name made him smile, though as the name passed your lips, it felt like vinegar on your tongue. Since Stiles as too drunk to see the change of tone, he continued to talk about her. "But she-she's-" he stopped to laugh, though the normally goofy and cheery laugh that came from him sounded a bit sadder. "She's not into me, you know?"
Leaning forward, you frowned. You knew exactly where he was going with this, and at the end of the night, you knew you were in the same position as him; in love with someone that was hopelessly in love with another. Though, with all of your heart, you knew Lydia liked him back. "You never know, Stilinski." You murmur quietly, eyes cast downward. "You never know."
"But," he said, letting out another one of those sad laughs that broke your heart. "But she likes Jackson. A-and I like her." He let out a groan, making you look back up at his freckled face. Bringing his hands up, he rubbed his eyes and then laughed once more. "Do you know what it's like... you know, to love someone who doesn't give t-two shits about you?"
As you looked up yet again, you looked at his eyes. His normally golden brown was a deeper, much sadder brown. If you didn't know any better, you wouldn't even recognize him with the way he looked when he thought about her. Your body taking control, you leaned forward and calmly grasped his hand with yours, but the look on his face never changed. "She cares about you." You assured, giving him the most convincing smile you could."She's just... a bit more cold-hearted than most people."
"But she doesn't love me," at this, he clenched your hand; under any other circumstances, it wouldn't made your heart flutter with happiness, but the only thing your heart was feeling was pain. You tried your best to not cry right then and there- you were comforting him. So what, Stiles loved Lydia, who loved Jackson? Who cared about your feelings?
"Do you know how that feels? T-to love someone-" at this, he looked into your eyes,"- and have them love another."
"Sadly," you whispered, retracting your hand from his and leaning back in your seat."I do, Stiles."
More than you know.