Imprinted [Sterek]

Chapter 2

It was around 2:45 in the morning when Stiles sat up in bed; he couldn't sleep; it wasn't even that he couldn't sleep; something was telling him not to relax. He wasn't sure where this 'voice' was coming from or why it was telling him not to sleep, at this second sleep was what he needed after the drive today and his not so little walk around the lake. Stiles threw his blankets off of him in frustration turning on the lamp on the bedside table.

"Well if I can't sleep I may as well try and write." He grumbled to himself, pulling his laptop out of the drawer of the bedside table loading up his documents. He turned on some quiet music in the background, knowing that he couldn't sit in silence and stare at his laptop, it would drive him insane. Having ADHD and trying to be a writer didn't sometimes work, not having any ideas was terrible enough, but if he weren't entirely focused on writing, he would never get it done.

Stiles had to feel like he was in the story himself to focus; he had to feel like he was living the novel alongside his characters. He wanted to imagine himself running through the woods with wolves; Stiles wanted to feel like he was standing at the top of the Empire State Building, he wanted to believe how cold it was to be on a deep-sea fishing boat out in the Pacific off the coast of Alaska. Stiles felt like he needed to be in the story for whoever reads it to feel the same.

He wants his readers to feel like he did when he first read Harry Potter, wanting to join Harry at Hogwarts and play with magic. Stiles wanted them to feel like how he felt when he read The Hunger Games, scared at the thought of that ever happening, but feeling like he would kick everyone's ass. He wanted them to feel Divergent like he had with Tris and Four. He wanted them to feel like they were running the Maze with Thomas and Newt, running for their lives. He wanted to be like all of the writers he looked up too. He wanted to be that next new book that kids read and think, I wish my life were like that.

Stiles wanted his writing to be good, and it's good, but he needed amazing. He needed a new original idea, that was hard to come by it seemed anymore. Teenage girls are getting picked up off of online websites and becoming New York Times Best Sellers for some One Direction fanfiction that they wrote when they were 13. Original was damn near impossible at this point. Stiles was determined though; he would come up with something that would knock everyone's socks off.

Now still sitting on his bed at quarter to 4 in the morning, Stiles was ready to give up for a few more hours and get his much-needed sleep. But that nagging voice in the back of his head kept telling him that he couldn't sleep. It was like his head saying it wasn't safe or something. He couldn't hear anything that sounded off outside. If something were going on, one of the neighbors would have their porch lights on making a commotion outside trying to take care of whatever was out there.

Giving into the voice in the back of his head Stiles grabbed his phone, flashlight out of the bedside table, and the baseball bat that his dad had under the bed and carefully walked down the stairs. Now there was a voice in the back of his head telling him he should have stayed in bed because we all know how those horror movies end. Stiles told his head to shut it, and he continued to the door of the cabin flashlight between his lips, showing him the way through the cabin. He had 911 on speed dial if needed, and he was pretty good with a baseball bat if he had to defend himself for an escape.

Slowly Stiles twisted the doorknob holding his as he did so, he took a couple of steps out of the threshold taking the flashlight out of his mouth and shining it around, nothing. Of course, it was nothing. A small rustle came from the bushing off the porch causing Stiles to jump holding the bat above his head ready to strike if something tried to attack him. He let out a sigh of relief when a small family of opossums walked out of the bushes. "Really brain, this is what you were worried about?" Stiles scolded, he rolled his eyes retreating into the cabin.

He lugged himself back up the stairs to his room. Leaning the bat against the bedside table and placing his phone and flashlight back onto the table, Stiles closed his computer, sliding it back into the drawer. He huffed, falling back onto the pillows and threw the blankets over his head with a sigh. Next time he was going to ignore the nagging voice in his head and sleep through it, opossums weren't worth the lack of sleep. With as many harmless animals that were in these woods, there were plenty of other animals actually to be worried about out in these woods. Animals a lot scarier than Stiles wants to think about at the moment with the nagging voice still trying to convince him not to go back to sleep. It was going to be a long rest of the night.