The First and Last Time
The first time she met Stiles, Mia literally crashed into him. She was horribly late for english, and didn't have the time to organize her belongings. Her focus, on juggling her books and notebooks in her arms, not where she was walking.
She can't help but feel eternally embarrassed even though he's nothing but nice about it. It was just her luck that when she runs into a cute boy, she actually runs into him unlike a normal person.
He reaches down to help her, offering an amused smile for he can feel her mortified anxiety race about. His honey colored eyes gleam in the sunlight, as if they somehow hold the wisdom of a thousand years making her stomach swarm with butterflies. She can't bring herself to stop staring.
There was something intriguing about him. Something she couldn't quiet place.
"Sorry." She mumbles snapping back to reality and attempting to walk away. She wants nothing more than to escape and completely forget this ever happened. But he quickly catches her by the arm and flashes a smile her way.
"That's okay. My first week here I literally ran into a statue." He chuckled handing her a notebook. "Don't forget this."
"Thanks."
"I'm Stiles by the way." He extends his hand out and she has to adjust the books in her arms to shake it. They both laugh.
"Mia." The butterflies flutter again and she can't remember a time lightheadedness felt this good.
"Where you headed?"
"English."
"Here," He takes some books off her weight. "I'll walk you to class, it's the least I could for running into you."
"Technically, I ran into you." She corrects.
"Sh, don't rebut my only excuse to take a pretty girl to class."
They hit it off really well, because by the end of the next week they're dating. She meets Scott, Stiles' childhood best friend, and now college roommate. He likes her (or so Stiles says so) but she believes him for when they were introduced Scott mumbled something he didn't think she caught. It was something along the lines of, "Good. Some normal's good for you." Well, whatever he meant by normal, she swore it looked good on him.
The first time she hears of Lydia Martin its a few weeks later, they're in the dorm lounge with a few friends and past relationships seemed to hold the topic of their conversations as Scott rolled her name off his tongue.
"What about you Stiles? Who was your last relationship with?"
"Ah, it doesn't really matter." He shrugs it off.
"Lydia Martin." Scott answers for him.
"Who's that?" Mia questions innocently as Stiles throws his best friend a glare. And when he doesn't respond, she looks back to Scott, wanting more.
"Just my ex-girlfriend." Stiles spits out quickly, not wanting Scott to reveal anymore than he wanted. But the alpha just laughed at how ridiculous that sounded.
"Just? Stiles, You can't call Lydia your ex-girlfriend!" He lets out and Mia can't help but be intrigued by what he meant. What did he mean?
"You've been in love with her since the third grade—you've—!" There were so many things Lydia Martin was to Stiles and although ex-girlfriend was technically correct, the title deemed absurd to Scott.
"I still don't understand why I can't categorize her as ex-girlfriend, we dated for a year, and now we're not together anymore. It's simple as that." Stiles defended. But the way he spoke about her did not seem that simple. In fact, the way she saw it, it was more complicated than ever.
"Because she's Lydia Martin…" You guys are never done. Scott wanted to finish but didn't for his eyes caught Mia's.
The first time she noticed something was up with him after that night she thought she was in denial.
Or maybe it was all in her head but she couldn't quite get the idea that he didn't want to see her out of her mind. It was stupid, really. All she knows is she hasn't seen or heard from him in a few weeks and they usually weren't like that.
They got along well. Like, really well in her opinion. So the fact that he was possibly avoiding her hurt. And the longer he avoided her, the more she wanted to know more about the girl who (in her perspective) created this chasm between them.
There had to be a reasonable explanation, right?
So Mia decides to bang on his door on November night, fed up with the two or three conversations they've retained in the pervious two weeks, demanding an explanation.
He answered and apologized profusely, saying something about cramming for upcoming finals and what not. But she could tell that wasn't what was keeping them apart.
"This is about Lydia, isn't it?" She questions into the thick air around her. They sit on his bed, and after a few moments of utter silence he nods.
"I don't know." But he does. He knows. She's right.
"What happened between you two?" Her voice is so soft and frail. She doesn't want to lose this. She likes him too much, but then again what was the point if he was hung up on some other girl?
He shrugs and it kills her.
"Stiles, talk to me." She insists. "What is this? What's happened? And you can't blame this on exams. I'm not accepting that answer." Was this how it ended? One night down memory lane, the mention of one ex-girlfriend and that's it?
"I just… I don't know… I hadn't thought about her in awhile." He admits in a low voice. Their conversation was nothing but strained and tense.
"Okay, well I still don't understand—"
"Lydia, she… she helped me through a lot of things." He looks up at her with such pain in his eyes. She wants to understand, she wants to unravel the demons that made him this way. "When I thought about her I just, everything just started coming back I guess."
"You know you can talk to me right?" Mia suggests. "You don't have to bottle it all up, Stiles."
He staring at his hands in his lap as he fidgets his fingers about. "Yeah I know." He mumbles, and she swears he doesn't mean it. But what can she say other than what isn't gonna make it worse?
"What about us?"
"What about us?" He questions. He looks up at her with an apologetic gaze.
"Are we okay?"
It takes him a moment to answer and when he does, she can breathe again. "Yeah." He smiles, and she can tell it's not genuine but she accepts it anyway, thinking it'll just take time for him to completely trust her with whatever it was that was going on with him.
"Yeah, we're totally good."
"I'm glad." She slides her hand between his.
"I'm sorry, for blocking you out and all… I just—" Stiles begins but in her perspective he doesn't have to explain anything. Everyone comes with baggage, even her. "You don't have to apologize for anything Stiles. Well, maybe the avoiding me part—that, I'll take an apology for!"
He chuckles leaning in her a quick kiss. "How's that for an apology?"
The first time she hears he's going back home for the winter break she becomes scared. Which she hides behind a fake smile he can't detect. She wants to tell him to stay, she wants to tell him to take her. But she remains silence and watches him pack.
He's told her all about Lydia Martin his genius, strawberry blond haired, green eyed ex-girlfriend. And nothing worries her more than the fact he's going to see her again.
They had gotten better for the past few weeks. Stiles confined in her (with minimal detail) when things got bad, so the distance between them caved. But she couldn't help shake the feeling off that something was empty. Something was missing.
Still, she drove both him and Scott to the airport when needed. It was simple really, too simple. Too ordinary, too unexciting. He kissed her goodbye and walked away.
Maybe a good two week break between them way good. She thought watching him from the distant.
The first time he Skype's her back a week had passed and she can tell something's shifted in their relationship. They've texted and called but it was nothing but short, How are you? How is it? Anything new?, boring conversation their relationship had plagued.
She's back in Boston so their time difference is annoying, but nothing they couldn't handle. It was eleven pm in California and one am in Massachusetts when he called. His face popped up on her computer and the way he played it off like everything was fine bothered her.
"How is it?" She asks, knowing the exact correlation of his response.
"It's great. Good to be back home. Missed my dad, Melissa, everyone."
She's itching to ask him about Lydia, if he'd seen her, if he missed her, if he still wanted to do this. But she remained quiet and questioned when she'd become this person who bottles everything up.
Instead she smiles. "Glad to hear it."
"What about you?"
"Yeah, everything fine here. Same old, same old." She answers.
"What have you been up to?"
Stiles shrugs. She can tell he's in bed, about to doze off.
"Went to Scott's for dinner with our parents tonight, nothing too exciting. Got the gang back together earlier for a round of bowling though. It was good to see them all." He reveals softly.
"The gang?" She smiles.
"Yeah, Me, Scotty, Kira, Liam, Malia, and Lydia."
She nods. It was almost as if her brain programed itself to smile and nod at every mention of Lydia Martin. She had to practically restrain herself from googling her.
"I'm glad you're having fun." She yawns, hoping he'd get the message she wanted to sleep. She really didn't, she just wanted to stop the conversation while they where ahead. And he does. "It's late over there." He exhales. "You should get some shut eye."
"Yeah. You're right. I'll talk to you soon?"
"Yeah, defiantly."
"I miss you." She adds, somehow hoping the tone in his voice will help convince he does to.
"You too."
It doesn't.
The first time she see's him after he comes back there are no more butterflies in her stomach or gleaming light in his eyes. Everything's off the table. Everything's changed. Not only is he distant but it seems as if he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He saw her. Something happened. Something changed within him.
He's never going to love you like he does her. The vile voices in the back of her mind screams at her as she watches the expression on his face fall. You deserve better. Maybe the voices weren't vile. Maybe they were just right.
"What happened?" It's the first thing she says to his face in weeks. But she couldn't have chosen better words.
They're having lunch and she's shaking against the seat even though the room is cozy.
"I can't do this anymore." He mumbles and all she can remember was how pathetic it came out. "Why?" She doesn't want to continue it either, she just knows she's right to an explanation (although she has a pretty good guess what).
She wants to hear it. She wants to actually hear the words come out of his mouth.
He doesn't respond for a while, and a part of her can see the struggle in his hurt. "I really like you." He continues taking in her presence. "Really. I-I'm such an idiot." This time he speaks so clearly she knows it's nothing but genuine. And he was right. He was an idiot.
"Th-that's not an answer." She sniff's. She doesn't want to get emotional. But it's simply something she can't control.
"Don't make me say it."
"Stiles!" Her voice raises uncharacteristically and she instantly feels guilty. He looks up at her in a mixture of surprise and dread. He knows he's done something stupid. He knows she never deserved anything like this. And it kills him to hurt yet another person in his life. But they can't go on this way.
"I love her. I thought it stopped… I-I thought… I don't know. But I guess I should've been smart enough to realize that some feelings just don't go away or… I don't know." He attempted to explain but she wasn't having any of it.
"Something happened, didn't it?" She finds herself questioning.
He nods. And all she remembers thinking was at least he had the audacity to look her in the eye, and tell her the truth.
"I kissed her."
And there it was. She knew from the moment he spoke about Lydia Martin, that their relationship was somehow doomed. Yet she didn't mind, in fact she bottled everything up, ignored the signs and pretended everything was okay. Everything was not okay.
She nods once again, and the look on his face does help at all. She can tell he's sincerely sorry. "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt anyone." He continues. "But I guess that what I'm ever really good at." He mumbles.
But she shakes her head. "No Stiles," No matter what anger or betrayal she felt for him at the moment, she wasn't about to let him believe the things he was saying.
"what you're really good at is drawing people in. Even when it's the wrong people." She continues, refereeing to herself. She gets up, wiping her tears away.
"I'm sorry." He holds his gaze upon hers for a moment.
"Me too." And with that, she walks away without ever looking back.
The last time she sees him it's in a restaurant. She's out celebrating a friends birthday when she spots him, arm stretched across the table, hands linked with another and she has to take a moment to gather her thoughts.
She realizes he's with her instantly. Although she's nothing like he described her. She has long beautiful hair plaited in some sort of complicated dutch braid that resembles a crown upon her head, as effortless silky stray strands frame her face.
She has a pair of great emerald eyes that could burn any soul. But all they seemed to do were brighten up the more she looked his way. A coral tint of red stained her full lips as they laughed and all Mia can remember are the vague details Stiles used to describe her. She was exceptionally beautiful in every way.
Lydia Martin was nothing like she ever imagined.
She takes a seat and tries to get the image of them together out her of mind. But she notices he finally laugh's with his eyes and she swear's she's never seen Stiles that happy before.
In a odd way, she's happy he's happy. She guesses things are better now. With him, with her, with their peculiar lives. But still a part of her can't help but feed on the same string of hurt she did the night he told her what happened between them.
She wants to go over there and give him a piece of her mind. She wants to go over there and ruin the perfect bubble they seemed to be living in. Because it wasn't fair that he moved on so quickly and got his damn bubble when she still struggled to trust.
Then again, he never really moved on from Lydia Martin. How could he when she looked like that?
They looked lost inside a world all of their own.
She's grateful when her friend distracts away from that table in the corner to discuss the menu, for she didn't know how long she could take watching them like that. If she could, wine would definitely be the first thing she'd order.
But no matter how grand the attempt stood, their euphoric laugher seemed to echo her way and she caught herself peeking glances their way.
He was whispering in her ear. She was chuckling without a care.
It was when she saw him mouth I love you, that she literally couldn't take it anymore. It was the one thing he never said to her. She said it once, twice, but instantly regretted it the moment it came out for he never bothered to reciprocate.
In a way she glad he didn't. Then he'd be a liar on top of everything else. And she knew Stiles Stilinski to the extent that he wasn't a liar.
She found herself walking to the bathroom, her eyes never breaking contact with their table. She wanted him to see her. No, She didn't want him to see her. Then she'd be facing the ultimate dilemma of, do I go over there? Do I wave and smile? Do I ignore him?
It was too much.
She sits in the stall for a while actually. Her mind is racing on override trying to understand how she wound up there. And somewhere along the line tears weld her eyes, rimming them red. She sniffs and wipes them away hoping to look somewhat normal.
When she comes out, she freezes when she see's the strawberry blond washing her hands. How long had she been in here? Did she hear me? Just, act normal.
Mia's busy washing her hands, face looking down into the bowel hoping the girl next to her wouldn't notice. But given her luck, she does.
She doesn't say anything at first. Her head just tilts a bit to the side and peers at her in curiosity.
"Are you okay?"
If she could describe her voice in two words she'd say it was a mixture of sweet and raspy. Not, heavy smoker raspy, but of a one of a person who's known too many tears she could practically drown in them.
Pretty and nice.
Mia just nods, but she can't seem to get that grim look off her face. Lydia hands her a tissue and turns back to her mirror to re-apply her lipstick.
"You know, a friend of mine once said. Never frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile." She continued finishing up.
"So don't frown," She shrugged. "someone could be falling in love with your smile."
Scratch that. Smart, pretty and nice.
Mia nods again, this time flashing a quick smile her way as she watched her exit the bathroom. She finds the courage to look up into the mirror. She too was pretty, she too was nice, and she too was smart. Too smart to let a guy get her this worked up in a damn restaurant.
She smiles again, and this time it's more genuine than the last.
When she gets back to her table there are still moments she finds herself peering over at that table. And the hurt and the betrayal does come crashing back but this time she finds she's a little more at peace with it than before.
She realizes that it'll be alright given time, it doesn't diminish the hurt, but it helps fade it a bit.
There were a lot of things she saw from that table. She saw hurt, she saw pain, but she also saw affection, and love.
She saw it all, from a table away.