l - teen wolf imagines

8. "This is the last one of this toy. You have no idea how badly I need it, and you're cute and all, but I will still fight you for it."

You rushed into the old toy store at the back of the Beacon Hills mall, intent on finding the one thing you had spent ages looking for. No one ever really came here, but you had been browsing their selection online, and you had found the perfect gift for your younger cousin, who was the biggest Star Wars fan you had ever met.
She adored the original movies, and she had the biggest crush on Han Solo, whose limited edition action figure just happened to reside in the very toystore you were speed-walking through. You scanned the shelves relentlessly until you finally found it, the last one they had, and you quickly reached forward to snatch it up.
You fingers were inches away, and just as they landed on the box, another hand came down and clapped over yours.
"Hey!" you cried, holding onto the box for dear-life as a guy about your age tried to tug it away. He was tall, with dark brown hair, and you were pretty sure he could just shove you to the shag carpeting and run, but you weren't letting go of that action figure without a fight. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Uh, what does it look like I'm doing?" the guy asked, his hand still over yours. "That's the last one."
"And?" you asked. "I grabbed it first."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
"What? Yes! My hand is under yours!"
"Okay, maybe you're right-"
"'Maybe' I'm right?" you repeated. "I'm pretty positive I'm right. There's no maybe about it."
"Look, you're cute and all," the guy told you. "And you obviously have very good taste, but you have no idea how badly I need this toy."
"Mmhm," you said. "And why would that be?"
"I...I don't wanna tell you," he stated.
"Right," you said. "Well, this toy is for my cousin, who is the biggest Star Wars fan out there, okay? I showed it to her when she was like five, and she's been in love with Han Solo for...about six years now. So, you better let go of this toy, because there is no way I'm giving it up to a teenage boy who has some closet collecting obsession."
"Woah, okay," the guy said. "How do you know I don't have a sick little brother, whose dying wish is to have this exact action figure for Christmas?"
You shot him a look. "Do you have a sick little brother whose dying wish is to have this exact action figure for Christmas?"
The guy frowned. "Well, no, but-"
"I thought not," you stated. "These things weren't meant to sit in boxes and collect dust. They were meant to make kids happy. I mean, jeez, if you're just going to put it on a shelf, why don't you wait to order one online?"
"I...I guess I could do that," he said. "How much did you say your cousin loves Star Wars?"
"Enough to dress up as Han Solo every Halloween for six years."
"Wow. That's dedication. And she's only eleven?"
"Yep," you told him.
"And you showed that to her, huh?"
"Yeah. I've loved those movies for ages. I just took her to see Rogue One last week. She cried. I cried too actually..."
"Me too," he said with a soft smile. "She's pretty lucky to have you as her cousin."
"I'm pretty lucky to have her too," you told him. "It's the best feeling to share something you love with someone you love."
"Huh," he said. "I like that."
Suddenly he sighed, and he took his hand off of yours. "You can have it. You were right. It's going to mean a lot more to someone like your cousin than it will to me just sitting on a shelf."
"Thank you!" you breathed, throwing your arms around him. "God, you have no idea how much this is going to mean to her."
The guy blinked, but he wrapped his arms around you nonetheless. When you pulled away flushing, he had a crooked smile on his face, like he had just cooked up a brilliant plan.
"I do want to ask for one thing in return though," he told you.
You blinked. "What?"
"Uh, could I get your number?" he asked.
You grinned. "Seriously?"
"Well, yeah," he told you. "I mean you seem really cool. You obviously have amazing taste, and anyone who would introduce someone to a love of Star Wars is a hero in my book."
"Alright," you said with a smile. "I'll give you my number...if you tell me your name."
"Stiles," he told you.
"Stiles?" you repeated. "That's your name?"
"Well it's not my real name," he explained. "But that one's too long and hard to pronounce, so I like Stiles better."
"Hm," you said. "Well, I'm Y/n."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n," he told you, pulling out his phone.
You gladly took it and punched your number in, and then you handed him back his phone. You turned to check out, but you shot a glance over your shoulder at Stiles as you left.
"Call me?"
"Definitely," he promised with a grin.
You turned away, and Stiles watched you go with mirth in his eyes. He had honestly never been so happy to miss out on something in his life.