We're not, no we're not friends, nor have we ever been,
we just try to keep those secrets in our lives,
and if they find out, will it all go wrong?
I never know, no one wants it to.
Stiles clenched his hands into a fist, his head and heart aching at the space that was deliberately put between himself and the girl. She sat across the room, their friends sat between them feeling more like a canyon as the night stretched on.
He longed to reach out to her, hold her close and pour all of these pent up emotions into her. Instead, he laughed half-heartedly something Scott said and returned his scattered attention to the movie. His best friend shouldn't have this effect on him, not anymore.
So I could take the back road,
But your eyes will lead me straight back home,
And if you know me like I know you,
You should love me, you should know.
Lydia felt her body rise in temperature, heat emitting from her in anger. The space between her and Stiles and grown through the night; Isaac sitting between them and then Allison. Ethan had sat in front of her on the floor, almost blocking her view of the boy she wanted to see most.
The last straw had been Malia, sitting so close to him that their arms brushed and their knees bumped together carelessly. No matter how hard she tried to at anything but him, their eyes would meet and he would smile a saddened smile, just for her.
Her best friend shouldn't make her feel so vulnerable, so empty when she wasn't by his side.
Friends just sleep in another bed
And friends don't treat me like you do
Well I know that there's a limit to everything
But my friends won't love me like you
No, my friends won't love me like you
When the night drew to a close and the pack fell asleep one by one, Lydia tiptoed out of Allison's bedroom and down the hall, avoiding the creaking floorboards as she passed the room that Kira and Malia were sharing.
She snuck past the fold out beds piled high with teenaged werewolves and padded over to the couch that Stiles was lying on, awake and waiting on her. Silently, he held open his arms and allowed her to crawl into the small space with him, enveloping her with his familiar scent and warm body.
They both exhaled a sigh of relief, the contact a necessary release of tension that had built up throughout the day.
They knew, both of them, that friend's didn't do this. Best friends didn't share beds almost every night and long to be in each other's arms when they were apart. They ignored the obvious and fell asleep quickly and peacefully; Lydia's head nestled into the boy's strong chest as he buried his hand into her curls.
No, my friends won't love me like you,
But then again, if we're not friends,
Someone else might love you too,
And then again, if we're not friends,
There'd be nothing I could do, and that's why…
When Lydia awoke with a start, the room was still dark and the gentle snores of her friends could be heard throughout the house. Stiles concerned eyes shone from the pillow beside her.
"Nightmare?'' his soft, sleep filled voice whispered.
She nodded, sudden tears falling from her eyes and she struggled to release the panting breaths she held in.
The boy hushed her, crushing her to his chest. In the darkness he listened with a broken heart as the girl told him how in her sleep she would watch as he would fall to his knees in front of her, death in his eyes. She wept gently as she burrowed closer to him, whispering how she would dream of him in another girls arms, of how she was waiting for the inevitable day that someone else would take him away from her.
Friends should sleep in other beds,
And friends should kiss me like you do,
And I know that there's a limit to everything,
But my friends won't love me like you,
No, my friends won't love me like you.
Stiles came alive as he took the girls tear stained face in his hands, his rough palms wiping away the falling droplets. With conviction and utter adoration in his voice, he told her, 'never'.
When he pressed his lips to hers, their world shattered and planets collided. She gasped, he groaned and they tasted each other's sighs and breaths.
Lydia whispered into his parted lips, her words falling into him like oxygen.
"Stiles, friends don't do this".
His hand slid down her neck, mapping out the dips and hills of her collarbones. Her hand wound its way into his messy hair, anchoring herself to him.
"It's okay, we're not friends'', his lips sought out hers in the darkness once more.
Oh, my friends will never love me like you.