Stiles stopped writing in the middle of a word. He looked up, eyes moving across the room. He was alone, sitting at a table with only his books for company. He glanced up to the ceiling, then redirected his focus back to his notes.
He'd lost his train of thought, and needed to reread the passage he was taking notes from before he could continue. He reread it, and realised he had no idea what he was reading. He could read the words, but he couldn't focus enough to make them make sense.
"Malia? I know you're there. Come on," he said out loud. He had that weird feeling that he wasn't alone, but he didn't see or hear anyone, so naturally he assumed it was Malia.