This is a short little Pydia(Peter/Lydia) drabble. Yup, I think I love this pairing.
Soft footsteps echoed through the dilapidated home, floorboards creaking under the unexpected weight. Dust flew up and swirled around the air as each bare foot fell. The precarious stairs stood tall and proud, having miraculously survived the fire that had occurred here many years ago intact.
"Hello?" Lydia called out, unsure of what she was supposed to do.
"Lydia…" The redhead whirled around, startled at the sudden voice. The boy who had given her the flower stood behind her, hands buried in his pockets. He smiled widely and started toward her, but stopped when she took a step back away from him.
"I-I'm sorry…" she whispered. "I don't know what that was."
"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Lydia went to contradict him, but couldn't.
"I don't know what to think when I'm around you," she said, looking into his deep brown eyes.
"Then don't think."
Lydia took a cautious step toward the boy. "I want to trust you. I really do…"
"Then trust me…" he said, taking one of her delicate hands. He stroked the top with his thumb in a calming gesture. "Don't think, Lydia. Just feel."
They held each others gazes for a few moments. "How do you feel?" the boy asked, taking another minuscule step closer.
"Afraid."
"Fear's good," he said, focusing his gaze to their intertwined hands. "Fear keeps people in check."
"Should I be afraid?"
"Yes…" he whispered, leaning in. The boy closed the distance between them, capturing Lydia's lips in a slow kiss. Their mouths moved carefully, treating the other as if they were close to breaking. He wrapped his strong arms around the girl's slender hips, pulling her up to the tip of her toes. When they broke apart, Lydia smiled and leaned against his chest.
"I don't even know your name…"
He chuckled. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
"Are you real?" Lydia asked, thinking he was too perfect to be true.
"Not yet…"
Lydia looked back up at the boy she was slowly falling for and shrieked, hand flying to her mouth. She stumbled back a few steps and backed up to the wall, tears blurring her vision.
The boy looked completely different. He was now a man with a scarred and soot blackened face, angry red burns covering his face. He reached toward her with a rotting hand. "Lydia…"
"No!" she screamed, streams falling down her cheeks only to fall to the floor. It was him. The man from both her nightmares and her hallucinations.
"I'm sorry, Lydia…"
"What is happening?!" she yelled at him, shying away from his touch.
"I need you," he said, raising a hand to move a stray hair from her face. She whimpered softly as his hand brushed against her cheek. "You're special."
"Go away," she weakly demanded.
"Not until you help me…"
Inspired by Of Monsters and Men's "Little Talks."
I don't like walking around this old and empty house
So hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear.
The stairs creak as I sleep, it's keeping me awake.
It's the house telling you to close your eyes.
Some days, I can't even trust myself.
It's killing me to see you this way.
Pydia and Sterek are becoming my hetero/homo OTP…