Stiles Stilinski sat in his bed, staring into space. He still couldn't get sleep. At least he thought he couldn't. His sense of reality had been skewed for the last few weeks, ever since the ritual. That ritual wasn't the only reason he couldn't sleep, he kept thinking about her.

Lydia Martin, he wondered what Deaton meant when he selected her as his 'Anchor' instead of Allison's. Maybe it was just because Isaac and Allison had developed a strong connection in the last few months, what seemed to be a romantic connection. Maybe the same was true for him and Lydia. He hoped that was the case. Maybe it was just because he loved her, that Deaton switched them, she was his 'Anchor' not necessarily the other way around. They had become closer in the last few months, since Jackson, her douche of a boyfriend had left. That didn't mean feeling had started to develop.

She hadn't shown any romantic interest in him, with the exception of the kiss she had given him when he was having the panic attack, but she only did that to save his life, right? He was over thinking this, he knew it. If we had a romantic connection, and so did Allison and Isaac, what did that mean for Deaton and Scott. Stiles chucked to himself for such a thought. He was definitely over analyzing. But what if he was right?

He had to know, in his sleep deprived state, he needed to know what it was that she felt for him. If anything, he needed to show her exactly how she felt. If he didn't take a chance, then he thought he never would. There had to be a way to find out without making even more of a public spectacle of himself.

Stiles went to his desk, realizing how to make sure this was indeed reality, and express his feelings in a private way. He grabbed a pad of paper from inside one of the drawers and began to write.

Lydia,

It's Stiles, but I guess you knew that. I'm writing you tonight, because I can't sleep, because I am scared. Because I believe that I am not someone who deserves you. Your friendship, support, your never give up attitude, your beauty, your intelligence, your love. I am a fool to feel what I am feeling for you, so tell you I like you as many times as I do, you may think I am picking on you, but I truly do. I see who you are under your façade, and that is the Lydia Martin that I fell for, the one I love. You can dismiss me as a sarcastic nerd, but dammit, I love you. The simple way that you walk, the way you talk, and the way you protect those closest to you. Your smile makes me feel like I can move mountains. Your tears make you so beautiful in my eyes. I would lose my mind without you in my life. I love the way you look when everyone is watching. I love you for everything that you are. Call me a fool, call me names, I don't care. I love you Lydia Martin, even if you hate me for this. I will always love you.

If you feel the same about me, please tell me, or write me back. If not, I promise that I will not pester you about it again. Although I will never stop being your friend, never stop worrying about you. Never stop loving you.

Your friend,

Stiles Stilinski

He picked up the letter and stared at it, reading it over and over and over again. He could read it, it was real. Finally taking a deep breath, he folded the letter into thirds and placed it into an envelope. He addressed the letter, taking great detail in each and every word that he wrote. A stamp was the last step before the letter was ready to be delivered. He didn't have any in his room, but that wasn't going to stop him. He left his room, slipping on a pair of sneakers before leaving. The kitchen drawer held what he was seeking, a stamp, the letter was complete and his feeling were about to be on the way to the woman that he loved. Stiles went to his door, took his hoodie from the coat-rack and put it on.

The letter never left his hand. As he traversed his sidewalk slowly, he thought he was going to have a panic attack. It only took a few more steps to reach his mail box. He dropped the latch and paused. Lydia's name, he had spent so much time thinking about her. Was it the right decision to write it and send it to her? He was terrified, terrified of what would become of him and the bond that they shared. After a few deep breaths, he finally forced himself to be a man and placed the letter into the slot, lifting the flag. He walked away, hoping he made the right decision.

Stiles father was waiting for him at the door. "What was that? Do you know how late it is?" He seemed to ask both questions simultaneously.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep," Stiles replied as he passed his father and reentered their home. "I had to ask someone something."

"In a letter? Lydia?"

"You know me so well, yeah. I told her how I feel, without the embarrassing act of talking." Stiles replied sarcastically.

"You okay now?" Sherriff Stilinski closed the door behind them.

"Yeah…" he hesitated. "I think for the first time in a long time, I will be."

"Okay, get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night Dad, I love you."

"I love you, too, Stiles."

That was it, Stiles was ready for sleep. His bed called to him, finally.

Several days had passed since the love letter was written. Lydia and the rest of his friends went on with life like normal, as normal as Beacon Hills could get, anyway. She didn't act any differently toward him, so he thought he had his answer. He would have to deal with just being her friend for the rest of his life. However, at end of school, three days later he found a note inside his locker. His name was penned in her hand writing. He opened the folded leaf of paper, as quickly as he could, without destroying it.

He looked around to see if anyone was nearby. He looked down to read the first words, stating simply-

Dear Stiles-