The music pulsed through Lydia, making her head quickly start throbbing. Closing her eyes, she forced her way through the groups of annoying underclassmen. This party was seriously lacking, probably because it wasn't being hosted by Lydia Martin. Rolling her eyes to herself, she finally made it to the one perk of the party, the free alcohol. Pouring herself a glass, she quickly downed it. It was blended terribly, but the alcohol was strong so it was good enough. Straight tequila was available for those willing to try it, and Lydia poured herself a shot and expertly downed it.
The throbbing of her head dulled, and she looked around the surrounding rooms to see if any of her friends were in sight. Not a single one of them was. Not that she was surprised. She had been feeling quite lonely the past weeks, well, months, if she was being honest. With no more deadpool or benefactor to worry about, Lydia had wondered if things would go back to normal. For her, and for the rest of the pack. But she still felt isolated.
Unable to find her friends, the loneliness only grew worse as she looked around at everyone talking, laughing, having a good time. That used to be her, once upon a time. But my, how times had changed. Turning down a hallway, she opened the first door she came to and stepped inside. Closing the door quickly, she shut her eyes and slid down the door in relief. "Watcha doin there?" The voice came out of nowhere, and Lydia shrieked and jumped up from the floor.
"Stiles, shit! You scared me!" She said, glaring at him. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk and he shrugged. "I can see that. Sorry, you probably wanted to be alone." He was leaning against the back wall of what Lydia now realized was a small guest bedroom, shadows cast over him. His strong jaw line and broad shoulders were highlighted in the dim light from the lone window, and Lydia quickly redirected her attention.
"Yeah... Not really into this whole party thing anymore." She mumbled, keeping her eyes on the shadows along the floor. Stiles chuckled, hiccuped, and said "That's only because you aren't the one throwing it."
Lydia narrowed her eyes at him in response, but couldn't help noting how well he knew her. It was then that she glanced down and saw the bottle in his hand, hanging loosely against his leg. No wonder he was acting a bit odd.
"Stiles, how much have you had to drink?" She asked, trying her best to sound lighthearted.
He looked down at the bottle in his hand, his brow furrowed, and then rubbed his eyes with his free hand."Uhhhhh, not that much. I mean... Kinda a lot. But I'm not drunk. Definitely not drunk. Scott made me promise not to get drunk, so I'm not drunk." His words were a bit slurred, and Lydia couldn't help but feel a bit worried.
Leaning back against the door, she questioned him again. "And...Where is Scott now? Why is he worried about you drinking?" It was a party after all, drinking was kind of the whole point of it.
"Uhmmm...Scott is somewhere, I kinda needed to get away...So I sort of ditched him. Beer makes the best company." He lifted up the bottle as if raising a toast.
Lydia chuckled softly. His logic was hard to argue with. "Yeah well, you and me both."
"And why exactly would you need to escape a party?" He teased, and Lydia didn't even have to look at him to know that one of his eyebrows was raised. Glancing around the room, she realized that with any other guy, she would feel uncomfortable in such a small, secluded area. But not with Stiles, even if he was clearly more drunk than sober. "Well, you're right, I didn't throw the party, don't know anyone here-"
"You know me!" He cut in, and Lydia couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. "Well I couldn't find you or anyone else. You guys all just disappeared and I felt..." She stopped herself before she let on anymore to the depth of her loneliness. Even here with Stiles, she felt like there was an invisible barrier. It wasn't the same as it used to be.
It was silent for a few moments before Lydia changed the subject. "Why are you hiding in here, Stiles?" Shifting over to the small bed, she rested her hip against the side of it. Stiles sighed, his eyes closed and his head resting back against the wall. "I don't know, I just...Haven't been feeling the greatest lately." Lydia raised an eyebrow at him.
"You? What's going on? Are you sick?" He had seemed fine to Lydia. Not that she would know, since he hadn't been exactly seeking her out to spend time with her lately. But that might have more to do with a brown haired coyote. "No, not like that. Although drunk...drunk at the moment." Lydia smirked, "I thought you said you weren't drunk?"
Stiles chuckled, moving over to sit on the bed. "Who am I kidding? I've set a new personal record for alcohol intake. I think I've had ten beers." Lydia smiled lightly, but felt a bit worried. "Are you celebrating something?" She joked, knowing that nothing that had happened recently was worth celebrating. Like she expected, Stiles grunted, letting out a sarcastic laugh.
"Yeah, funny." He shook his head, and Lydia looked down and saw that the dim light was now across his eyes, his eyes shimmering. He looked so...old. Mature. Funny how through everything that had happened over the last year, they had grown so much without really even noticing. "Well, I mean...You and Malia seem pretty happy together, celebrate that!" Lydia winced at the fact that she had just brought that subject up, the last thing she wanted to talk about.
Stiles wipped his head up to look at her, his eyes full of emotions that Lydia couldn't quite translate. "What...I, uh...Malia and I aren't really together." Lydia's eyes widened in surprise. "But...I thought you guys made up!" Scott had mentioned something to her about Stiles and Malia being back to normal, after she forgave him for keeping her parentage a secret.
Stiles sighed, looking away from her. "Yeah, well...She came to me and we talked, and we...kinda, kissed... But it just...I don't really know if it will work out." What did he mean? If they kissed, why wouldn't they be back together? "Well what do you mean? You...kissed her, right?" The awkwardness of the question didn't escape her, but she needed to know the answer.
"Yeah...I mean at first, yeah I did." Lydia waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "At first?" This was starting to feel like an interrogation, but oh well. "Yeah...I mean, I like her. But it just...I don't know. Anyway, why are you hiding in here? And don't go changing the subject on me." He turned stern eyes on her, but couldn't hold it and broke into a smile.
"I already told you, I just didn't feel like being out there! Too many people, too much noise and just...too much everything." This time it was Stiles who studied Lydia, worry etched into his face. "Have you been ok recently? You just usually wouldn't hide out at a party. And you haven't been...Around, much...In general."
Lydia couldn't help but role her eyes. "Stiles, I've been around. Maybe you just haven't been looking for me." It came out a bit harsh, and she bit her lip bit, wishing she could disappear through the floor. Especially when she saw the shock and hurt in Stiles eyes. "Is that really how you feel, Lydia? Like I've been ignoring you?"
Lydia looked over at the window, trying to focus on the trees outside. "Honestly? Yes. But not just you. The whole pack. But it's ok. Everyone's got their own things going-"
Stiles cut in, and Lydia jumped as he placed his hand on her wrist and pulled her down next to him on the bed. "Lydia, no, don't give me that bullshit. Everyone's got their own stuff going on, but a pack is supposed to support each other and be there for one another. And you don't feel like I-like we...Have been doing that?"
Lydia looked down at his hand, feeling the warmth spreading through her arm. "Stiles...I spent countless weekends in my lake house. Alone. While I was on a deadpool." It had not been the smartest move. "Ok, you're right. We should have sent someone with you."
"No. I mean, yes. But that's not it Stiles. Usually I wouldn't mind so much. Would I have preferred not to be alone? Yes. But...Stiles...After everything that happened...I just..." She felt her eyes begin to fill with tears and her throat begin to close up, pausing to catch her breath. Stiles eyes filled with understanding, and he rubbed her arm softly. "You mean...Allison."
Just hearing him say her name opened the flood gates, and tears instantly begin to run down Lydia's cheeks. "Of course I mean Allison, Stiles. I lost my best friend, and I've been needing you guys, the pack, more than ever before, but I just...I've never felt so isolated in my whole life, and I feel like...Like I'm the only one still struggling this much over her being gone. I know it still hurts you guys, but for me it's different. It's like I'm stuck in this hole, and I'm looking up at you guys, wishing I could keep up and move forward, but I can't." Lifting her hands up to her face, she tried desperately to wipe the tears away but it was useless. Tears that she had been holding back were soaking her cheeks. Stiles wrapped his arms around her, and she couldn't do anything except push her head against his firm chest, feeling his head resting against hers.
How long had it been since she was hugged like this? She had forgotten what it was like. The closer he held her, the harder she cried. She could feel herself shaking, and she gripped Stiles' shirt desperately. How had she gotten to this point? How had her life changed so drastically? She used to be such a strong person, carefree and happy. Could she ever go back to that? Life was so harsh, and for the first time she was genuinely terrified that she couldn't handle it.
"Stiles, I don't even feel like I'm living anymore. And I don't know how to start rebuilding my life, I don't know if I even want to. What's the point? Our lives can never be normal, we can never go back to the innocent kids we used to be. This isn't how our lives were supposed to go, Stiles. We're seventeen years old, we shouldn't be dealing with werewolves, fighting off bad guys, demonic possessions, and watching our friends die before they even finish High School. Why did this happen to us?" She cried, struggling to get the words out between her heaving breaths.
She distantly felt Stiles moving her across the bed. He sat with his back rested against the pillows and stretched his legs out in front of him. Lydia curled into his side, practically on top of him. Her forehead was pressed against his neck, and the warmth of his skin slowly helped sooth her. He ran his hand gently through her hair, his other hand resting on her neck and pressing her in close. Lydia wasn't sure how long they stayed there, but gradually her tears ran out and she became aware of the makeup burning in her eyes.
Drained completely of her energy, Lydia loosened her death grip on Stiles' shirt. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, and she slowly ran her fingers over the material covering his chest. He was wearing one of his plaid button ups, and Lydia ran her fingers over one of the buttons. He was so warm, and Lydia was struggling to keep her eyes open. She felt like she could sleep for a week. Stiles moved an arm around her, resting his hand on her hipbone.
"Lydia, I'm so sorry. You're right. We shouldn't have to deal with any of this. It isn't fair, and it's way too big of a burden for seventeen year olds. Especially you, you have these confusing powers and now...Now you don't have your best friend here anymore. Scott lost his first love. Argent lost his only daughter. And it's not right, and I don't know how you've been so strong."
"But Stiles, I haven't been strong, did you miss everything I said? I've never felt this weak." Her voice was a bit raspy, and her throat somehow felt heavy. "Lydia, you're wrong. You're the strongest person I know. If it had been Scott who died, I would have gone off the deep end. I probably wouldn't even be here now, because I couldn't stand living a life without Scott McCall. But here you are. You're still here, and you're still standing. Hurt? Depressed? Lonely? Maybe. But you've made it this far. And that right there shows how strong you are. Having all of these terrible feelings doesn't mean you're weak, anybody in your situation would be feeling this way. The fact that you've been able to keep going makes you the strongest person I've ever met."
He fell silent then, and Lydia felt tears well up in her eyes once again. She closed them, fighting to control her emotions. She couldn't help but smile a bit, her heart blazing with affection. How had she gotten so lucky? Why was Stiles so willing to stick with her, see the strength in her, help her see it in herself, and often times know her better than she even knew herself? Before, it had confused her. But at some point, something changed. She wished she could pinpoint the exact moment when Stiles' affection for her no longer scared her, but comforted her. It would be easy to say that things had changed when she had kissed him, but Lydia knew it was before that.
Lydia smiled, watching his chest rise and fall. Resting her hand flat against the spot above his heart, she turned her head a bit. She carefully pressed her lips against the skin exposed at the collar of his shirt, at the base of his neck. She instantly felt his heart skip a beat against her hand, and smiled against his feverishly hot skin. "Thank you, Stiles. Really. I haven't felt like this in a while." She mumbled against him. She felt his head tilt down, probably looking at her.
"What do you mean? Like what?" He asked, his voice slightly shaky. Lydia didn't even have to contemplate the correct word to describe how she felt, she had felt it spread along her bones only moments ago. "Peaceful. I feel peaceful." She whispered, focusing on the feel of his heart beating against her hand. "You make me feel peaceful, Stiles." She continued, surprised at how easy the words were to say, and the level of truth behind them.
Stiles heart rate sped up a bit, and his hand tightened against her hip. It was comfortably quiet, the sounds of the party muted just enough. "Stiles, do you believe in fate?" She asked. He stayed quiet for a moment, letting his hand trace circles around her hip bone. "I don't really know...I like to think we have control over what happens to us. But maybe we're just pawns, maybe our lives have already been decided for us. Maybe some things are just...destined to happen."
Lydia felt her breath catch in her throat. "Do you think... Maybe all of this is just fate. Maybe Scott was destined to get bit. Maybe Allison was just destined to die." It hurt for her to say the words, and she grit her teeth together. Stiles let out a bit of a sigh, "Yeah, maybe. Maybe." His voice trailed off, and Lydia thought carefully about what words to say next.
"Do you think...Maybe, you and I...Are destined to be together?" The words were a slight whisper, barely audible. But Lydia knew that Stiles' had heard her, because his heart rate sped up once again. "Lydia, I...I don't know. All I know is that before you and I were friends, you were my dream girl. I just saw you as perfect, and you were the ultimate dream. And then...Then I got to know you, and Lydia you aren't perfect. You're bossy, you're complicated, you're messy. You aren't this perfect dream anymore, Lydia. You're a reality. And our reality is far better than anything I could have ever dreamed. Maybe we'll end up together, maybe we won't. Maybe we don't have a choice. But all I know now is that nothing's ever felt so right." His words brought tears to Lydia's eyes, and she turned her head once again and kissed his neck.
She tasted salt, and wasn't sure if it was sweat on his skin or her own tears. He tilted his head as she moved to kiss the spot below his ear, her hand exploring the contours of his chest and collar bone over his shirt. His breathing was shaky, his mouth slightly open. His hand had found it's way to the exposed skin at the bottom of her shirt, and was tracing back and forth.
"Ah, Lydia," He mumbled, stuttering a bit, "as good as this feels, we gotta stop. I don't want to go too far, you've had a difficult night, and I had quite a bit to drink earlier. I don't want you to regret anything." He was clearly struggling to get the words out, his hand moving an inch further up her shirt. Lydia kissed along his jaw line, and then forced herself to pull away from his addictive taste.
"Stiles, if you really do want to stop, we can. If you still feel drunk, we can stop right this second. But this is not a rash decision on my part, Stiles. I've been going through a difficult time, yes, but I would not regret anything between us. Because I've had feelings for you for a long time now." She glanced up and met his gaze, watching his eyes widen. Before he could interrupt, she continued. "I don't know when it happened, but it did. And it scared me for a long time, because the last time...Well, you saw what happened with Jackson. But I'm not scared anymore. And I have never been in love with anyone, the way I love you." Her voice cracked a bit under the weight of her emotions, and she watched Stiles eyes grow watery.
And he didn't need to say anything, Lydia already knew that he loved her just as much as she loved him. His lips curved into a smile, and Lydia smiled back at him. Her gaze lowered to his smile, the lips she had kissed once before. The energy between them immediately shifted, the air around them intensifying.