Seeing Monday's episode, I have become an avid Pydia shipper (can you believe it?!) I think he likes her tbh. This story is about an incident/incidents that occured between the two and the consequences it brings (oooooh). Review etc etc.. much love & popcorn.
Lydia POV
This couldn't be happening. She was Lydia Martin, she was 18 and she had a bright future. But then why did the little stick on her bedside table have two distinct lines on it? She was pregnant. PREGNANT. In the middle of this mess with Stiles, with everyone in fact. God, now when she needed to focus more than ever, she would have to forsake her nightly glass of Pinot Grigio because she would hurt someone else. Hot tears ran without any warning and she wiped them away with the sleeves of her Beacon Hills High hoodie and wrapped herself into a ball trying to quiet herself after figuring out how she got herself in this position.
Well, she knew how. The thought still made her skin warm and tingle as if she was still in the moment. Or in the moments. Who was counting? She knew it was his child the moment the lines popped up. Just like she knew that everything was going to come crumbling around her. She didn't know how much worse this could get.
Startled out of her reprieve by the jangling tune of her cell phone, she hurried across her room, knocking over the pregnancy test in the process. "Hello?" she answers as calm as possible, trying to keep her breathing even before she has a panic attack on the phone. "Hey it's Allison. We need you to check out this new lead, see if you get..anything. We left instructions at Derek's". Allison manages to get that out with one breath and Lydia is unusually slow to answer "Lydia?" she inquires. "Yes I'm on it. Bye" Lydia's finger hovers over the end button briefly before pushing it .
Then the information sinks in, they left instructions at Derek's. Who else lives with Derek? Hmm, the father of her unborn child perhaps. Refusing to scream, Lydia promises to be in and out of the loft in no time without so much of a glance toward Peter Hale.
She puts on her dark red lipstick and brushes her hair, one must always look presentable of course, not for any special reason. She almost smiles at her reflection, recalling how the last time she had been to the loft had been so very different…