[Some of his tension eases at the reassuring squeeze, the same way some of it eased when he hugged Lydia earlier. He lets out a breath.]
No, I got kinda -- distracted. [One corner of his mouth quirks up and he shrugs a shoulder.]
Okay, come on.
[He doesn't push. It's soon; too soon. He knows Scott hasn't dealt with it. Dying. Every time Stiles thinks the word in relation to his best friend, his stomach starts feeling queasy. He isn't ready to deal with it either. So for now, he shifts, drapes his arm around Scott's shoulders and guides him down the corridor toward his room.]
[Spam]
No, I got kinda -- distracted. [One corner of his mouth quirks up and he shrugs a shoulder.]
Okay, come on.
[He doesn't push. It's soon; too soon. He knows Scott hasn't dealt with it. Dying. Every time Stiles thinks the word in relation to his best friend, his stomach starts feeling queasy. He isn't ready to deal with it either. So for now, he shifts, drapes his arm around Scott's shoulders and guides him down the corridor toward his room.]