Studying wasn't anything he generally had a hard time with unless he was expected to do it continuously and around people who kept huffing out dramatic sighs and looking up at him with dark furrowed brows like he was breathing too loud or like his mere existence was a trial every time he moved or stretched or asked a question. After what Stiles counted was the thirty-second such sigh and frown, he closed the book with a loud slam.

"That's it. No, really, I'm done. If it's that difficult to be in the same room as me, I'll just go home and be in the non terminally afflicted zone." He got up and went to fling the pillow he'd been resting on at the couch.

His aim was a little off and it wound up heading for Derek. Um, oops?