Hey guys! here is another prompt, this time from thehumanandthebanshee: "Lydia see's Stiles kissing Caitlin at the blacklight party and asks him about it the next day"
Warning you now, this is a definite jealous!Lydia fic. Hope you enjoy!
I don't own Teen Wolf.
Where the hell was he, dammit?
Lydia was supposed to be keeping an eye on her friends, and she had lost Stiles. One second, he was dancing with some chick in a pink wig, and the next second, both of them were gone.
She saw Isaac and Allison, still dancing. She saw Aiden, still grinding with those two girls – big surprise there – and she even saw Danny and Ethan, dancing a few feet away from Isaac and Allison. She didn't see Scott, but she wasn't supposed to see him anyway, so she wasn't too worried.
But she was worried about Stiles. Where could he have gone in two seconds? Okay, not literally two seconds, but still.
Looking in her immediate sight, she couldn't find him, so she started weaving through the crowd, still keeping an eye on the others.
Finally she found him sitting on the spiral staircase with the girl. She sighed in relief, and was about to go up and chastise him, but stopped short as the girl grabbed Stiles' face and pressed their lips together.
She stood there for a moment, shocked as Stiles kissed her back. She took an involuntary step backwards as her chest tightened and a heat surged through her. Forcing herself, she took a deep breath and turned away. She made her way back through the crowd, her mission forgotten. She just needed to get away from that image.
But why did it bother he so much? Stiles should be kissing girls. He was funny and attractive, why wouldn't a girl want to kiss him?
The heat was still flowing through her, and she almost didn't recognize it. She hadn't felt it since Allison had first moved to Beacon Hills, and Lydia thought that Jackson was getting too close to the new girl.
This was jealousy. Pure, raw, unadulterated jealousy.
'''''''''''''''''''
Lydia slammed her locker door shut and headed towards class. She saw Stiles at his locker, getting the books he needed, and the image she kept trying to block out assaulted her mind yet again. She tried to slip by him as his head was in his locker.
"Hey, Lydia!"
Of course she wouldn't be so lucky.
"Hey, Stiles," she answered, forcing a pleasant tone and a small smile.
"I didn't get a chance to see you before you left last night," he told her.
That's because you were too busy making out with that slut, she thought to herself. But she decided to go for civil when she actually spoke. "It's okay, you were having fun. Where is Pinkie by the way?"
Okay, maybe only half-civil.
"Pinkie?" he asked. "You mean Caitlin? Yeah, she doesn't actually go here. She's in college."
Of course she's in college.
"Oh," she said. "Cool. I should get to class."
"Yeah, I'll, uh, walk with you," he said.
"Why?" she asked.
He gave her a curious look. "Because we…have the same class?"
"Oh, right," she said, shaking her head to clear it.
"Are you okay?" he asked as they started walking.
"Fine," she answered quickly. "Why?"
"You don't seem fine," he stated.
"Well, I am," she snapped.
"Lydia," he said, making her stop. The concern in his tone was almost overwhelming. "What's wrong?"
"Why do you care so much?" she asked angrily, spinning around to face him. "Just go make out with Pinkie – oh excuse me, Caitlin – and leave me alone!"
She stomped down the hallway, pushing past people, not even caring if she was being rude.
"Lydia! Lydia, wait!"
She ignored him and continued down the hallway until she slammed into a solid body.
"You okay?" Scott asked, putting his hands gently around her arms as she stumbled back in her heels.
"I'm fine," she said. "I just need to get to class."
"Lydia!" Stiles had caught up to her. "What that hell is that supposed to mean?"
Scott looked between them, obviously confused.
"It means exactly what I said," she replied, pulling out of Scott's grasp.
"What does making out with a girl have to do with how much I care about you?"
The furrow in Scott's brow deepened. If she was feeling anything but jealousy and anger, she would've felt sorry for him, getting caught in the middle of the conversation. As it was, she just glared at Stiles in disbelief.
She invaded his personal space until their faces were mere inches apart. "A hell of a lot more than you would think."
She looked into his widened eyes for a moment, and there was a mix of shock, confusion, and that damn concern that was so fucking annoying.
Frustrated, she turned on her heel and entered the classroom.
Sitting down in her seat, she noticed that there was almost ten minutes until class started, and the teacher wasn't even there yet. After a moment, Scott and Stiles came in, and Lydia tensed as Stiles stopped at her desk. He leaned down to her level, but she didn't look at him. She focused on her notebook, taping her pen against the paper.
"Lydia, what did I do?" he asked. "Why is this such a big deal?"
She didn't say anything, just kept tapping her pen. She realized that she was being difficult, but she didn't trust herself to speak. She had already said too much in her anger. It wasn't his fault that she took too long. It wasn't his fault that he got tired of waiting. It wasn't his fault that she had just started to think she might have feelings for the boy who was always there for her, and that she had obviously realized too late.
All of it sucked, but it wasn't Stiles' fault. It was her own for being a selfish bitch who cared more about stupid popularity and dating the 'Star-jock' then actually looking at the people around her and seeing them for who they really are, and not just judging them upon sight.
Stiles' hand rested over hers, stilling the pen. "Talk to me, Lydia."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at him.
The shock was gone from his face, but the confusion and concern was still there. It almost broke her resolve. She almost told him everything about how she felt, how she finally wanted him.
Almost.
"Look," she said. "It's – it's nothing. I'm just stressed with everything that's going on, and I just – I took it out on you, okay?"
He tilted his head and tightened his grip on her hand, moving the pen so he could wrap his fingers around her palm.
"Are you sure that's all it is?" he asked. "You can tell me."
"That's all it is," she lied.
She could tell that he didn't believe her completely, but thankfully, he didn't push it.
"Okay," he replied, squeezing her hand on more time. "But if you need to talk, I'm here. You know that, right?"
She nodded, rolling her lips.
Stiles gave her a small smile before letting go of her hand and going to his own seat as more students came in.
It's not his fault that she was so jealous.
The teacher finally came in and started to teach, but she was listening. The image of Stiles and the girl wouldn't leave her mind. But the image itself wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was how it made her feel. What it did to her heart.
No, it wasn't his fault that her heart felt like it was being squeezed dry. It was her fault for being oblivious and stupid.
It was her own damn fault.
Tell me what you think! I really appreciate it!