The following week at LanVille College unfolds like a movie reel on fast-forward, classes, art critiques, unfinished essays, and whispered rumors. Somewhere amidst the chaos, Stiles and Alisson have become something neither of them can define.
They meet between lectures, share thoughts about literature and art, and sometimes sit in comfortable silence by the lake where they first walked together. It's as if the campus itself notices, people glance when they walk by, professors raise eyebrows, and friends start asking questions.
But not everyone seems happy about it.
The Literature Lounge emits a soft hum of conversation from the social building lounge. Stiles sits on a couch, typing on his laptop, when Ethan Hunts, his roommate, slides in next to him holding two cups of coffee.
"So?," Ethan says, voice dripping with mischief. "You and Alisson West, huh?"
"We're just talking," Stiles says, not looking up.
"Talking? My God!! you've been orbiting her for days. Half the class is placing bets on when you'll make it official."
Stiles sighs and leans back.
"You know how people are. They see two people together and assume there's a story."
"of course there is a story," Ethan grins. "You just haven't figured it out yet."
Stiles can't help but laugh, though his expression softens when Ethan's tone shifts.
"Be careful, man," Ethan warns quietly. "Carter's been talking. He's not over her and he's not gonna let that slide."
That catches Stiles off guard.
"Talking how?"
"Stuff like you're using her for attention. That you're out of your league. You know, the usual insecure guy trash talk."
Stiles clenches his jaw.
"He doesn't know me."
"He doesn't have to," Ethan says. "He just has to make her get doubts about you."
Stiles doesn't answer. He just stares at the screen on his laptop, feeling something, a stir mix of protectiveness and anger he doesn't quite understand.
Later that evening, Alisson is alone in Studio greenlile, the scent of fresh paint hanging in the air. She's painting under the soft yellow sun rays from the window, headphones around her neck, brush gliding over like waves on water.
Stiles leans against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before speaking.
"You lose track of time in here."
She turns, smiling when she sees him.
"Guilty again. I like when the world disappears for a bit."
"Should I disappear too?," he says softly.
She pauses, lowering her brush. He steps closer, their voices dropping to a quiet rhythm that feels too close, too easy.
"You know," she says, tilting her head, "you have a way of showing up when I least expect you."
"And you have a way of making me want to always run to you."
For a heartbeat, the room felt smaller. The air between them thickens, the scent of paint, the sound of their breathing, her eyes were locked on tracing his lips.
"You shouldn't say things like that," she whispers.
"Why not?"
"Because I might start believing them."
Their closeness lingered with unspoken emotion, her hand smudged with color, his fingers brushing a strand of paint-dusted hair from her cheek. For a brief, suspended moment, it feels like something more might happen, but Alisson steps back, clearing her throat.
"I heard Carter's been talking," she says quickly.
"I heard the same."
"Ignore him, Stiles. All he wants is attention."
"I'll try," he says, though his tone says otherwise.
She studies him.
"Promise me you won't get pulled into his games."
"I'll promise," he says. "But I can't guarantee, if he wants attention I'll dedicate my time on him"
Two days later, the tension finally gets unravelled.
The campus is crowded due to classes. Alisson's carrying her sketch portfolio when Carter appears, blocking her path.
"You've changed, Alisson," he says, voice filled with false charm. "Hanging out with the literature kid now? What happened to having standards?"
Before she can respond, Stiles appears at her side.
"Back off, Carter."
Carter smirks.
"Relax, Marvy. Just saying hello to an old friend."
"Doesn't seem so to me, sounded more like an insult," Stiles says.
"oh yeah, Maybe it was huh, what're you gonna do about it" Carter steps closer, his tone sharp. "You think you can swerve in with your clever words and steal what you don't understand? You're not part of this world boy."
"Art? Love? Or you?" Stiles asks. "Because I'm not sure I see you in any of them."
That does it. Carter shoves him hard. Stiles stumbles but steadies himself, his expression calm but cold.
"Careful," Stiles says. "You don't want everyone to see how threatened you are."
Students nearby have started watching. The tension is electric. Alisson steps between them.
"Enough! Both of you."
Carter backs off reluctantly, muttering something under his breath before walking away. Alisson turns to Stiles, her voice really low.
"You can't do that."
"He pushed me first."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"That he wants you to react. Don't give in to his games."
Stiles looks away, breathing calmly.
"I just hate how he talks to you."
"I can handle Carter," she says softly. "What I need is someone who listens, who stays calm when things get ugly."
"Trust me, i was calm"
"Didn't look that way" she responded
Her voice breaks the anger like sunlight through clouds.
"You're right," he murmurs. "I'm sorry."
She steps closer, her eyes searching his.
"You're not who he says you are, Stiles. Don't let him make you doubt that."
The world seems to fade around them again, students, voices, everything dissolving until there's only the sound of her words and the way they look at each other.
Their hands almost touch before the bells ring and Alisson pulls back slightly, looking away.
"I should get to class," she says softly.
"Alisson", he called out.
"Later," she cuts in gently, smiling faintly. "We'll talk later."
As she walks away, Stiles exhales slowly, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. Ethan appears behind him, shaking his head.
"Don't even think about it" Stiles said to Ethan
"Well," Ethan says, "that could've gone worse."
"Could've gone better too."
"Maybe. But it's obvious now....this isn't just a crush."
Stiles glances toward Alisson's fading figure.
"No," he says quietly. "It's not."