There's a shout coming from downstairs. "Lydia?"
She huffs loudly. This is not happening right now! How dare he even have the nerve of coming back here? Lydia stays quiet, hoping that if she does so he'll just leave. He doesn't though; his voice becomes more and more clear as he walks up the stairs. Lydia regrets not shutting the door of the soundproof room when she'd walked in twenty minutes ago.
He takes all of thirty seconds to find her. "Ah. Here you are. Didn't you hear me call for you?" He's lucky that she's facing away. Her gaze could kill him right now. "Lydia, what are you doing?"
It's been hours since the party ended and everyone left. In fact, she should have had breakfast already. Lydia picks up the bottle of club soda and the cloth from the ground, getting up from the place she'd been kneeling at. She avoids his eyes and her voice comes out bitter. "I was cleaning a stain. What are you doing here? Did you forget something?"
Stiles frowns at the way Lydia walks by him without even a glance, but then again he was already expecting her to be pissed. Stiles trails behind her as she heads to the kitchen, patiently waiting for her to say something. When she doesn't, he continues. "I stopped by to see if you needed any help."
She scoffs at that, putting the cloth away and returning the bottle to the fridge, then turning to face him. "Now that I've cleaned everything by myself? Thanks."
He tries to be reasonable. "Well, you could have waited for us."
Lydia turns back around and supports herself on one of the counters for a second, closing her eyes and sighing. Pouring herself a glass of water, she drinks it avidly. "No one would have come," she murmurs, more to herself than for him to hear.
Stiles perks up at that, taking a few steps in her direction. "What are you talking about?"
She places the glass on the counter more forcefully than intended, almost making it shatter. "You're always too busy. Everyone's always too busy and I get left behind to deal with things on my own."
"What? You are not left behind, Lydia-"
She interrupts him. "Well, I'm not really going along either, now am I?" Lydia shakes her head slightly. "You know what? Never mind. You came to help. I don't need it anymore. You can leave." With that, she storms past him again, heading back upstairs and to the soundproof room.
Stiles trails close behind her, follows her until they reach the room and watches as she kneels on the carpet on the same spot he had found her before . He gets closer this time, kneeling beside her. "I'm not leaving. What's wrong, Lydia?"
She's supposed to be mad at him, not remembering how he's technically one of the best friends she has even though he's been spending less and less time with her, certainly not remembering the feelings she's been developing for him for a while now. "Nothing's wr-"
"Something is wrong," he interjects. "Just talk to me."
His words sound sincere, and there's an innocence to the way he places a hand on her back comfortingly, like he just knows that something is wrong as his touch will mend it, that has Lydia agreeing. If he wants to know what's wrong, she'll tell him. She'll tell him everything.