Okay. This is my first fic for teen wolf and since I love teen wolf I decided to give a try. A stydia one shot, just cause I'm obsessed with this paring. Sorry not sorry. I'm not a native speaker, please remember about it. And COMMENT. I'm so happy every time someone comments, you have no idea. Hope you'll enjoy. :)


The wind is playing with fallen leaves, it's cold, you shiver in your coat and you feel empty. Walking home alone today, in your yellow dress, high heels and with your strawberry blond hair in a nice bun; you've never looked so perfect outside and been so shattered inside at the same time.

It happens to you lately; this sharp sudden felling when you are unable to breath and you are fighting to do it and you stop in the middle of the sentence struggling and it's like panic attack only worse. And you blame it all on Allison, because it's all her fault.

You miss her so much, it hurts like hell.

Every day, every minute; if feels as if this katana pierced not her but you and stayed in your body from then on, jerking your guts with its sharp blade whenever you move. You miss Allison so much because Allison means so many things like red nails and smile that made the world shine, like bravery and heroism and the first girl that wasn't a rival for you.

And you also miss her, because you regret ever being jealous of her; and you were jealous. You make boys sexually frustrated; she made boys love her. And then you realize you managed to make one boy love you without even trying and the circle is closed, because you are back to Stiles and you can't think about Stiles now, you can't think about Allison and Stiles at the same time cause it kills you.

Stiles is another reason you walk home alone, tucked in your coat and you want to scream.

Because you are Lydia Martin, with her best friend buried under the ground; a stupid Lydia Martin, who is so terribly late.


It took you some time. So much time, that you start to doubt your intelligence when you finally face it. There is no denying now. Only sharp arrows sent by a skilled archer right into your heart everytime he plays with her hair.

You are Lydia Martin, he was the one that got away, but he was never yours to claim you say to yourself everytime you see Malia; her beautiful mane of thick hair, her plump lips and her curves and your world turns green.

Because no matter how many times you deny it, you still have this bitter taste of betrayal on your tongue whenever you see he kisses her. And no matter how hard you try to forget, you remember how his lips felt like when they were pressed to yours and his taste is imprinted on your mind like a constant reminder that you could've had it all.


You are a green-eyed teenage banshee and you sometimes wonder about the glorious and mysterious what ifs. In the most inappropriate places, on the most inappropriate time. You catch yourself on wanting to scream your feelings out loud, to look into his eyes and tell him everything you carry deep, deep inside. You wonder what would happen next. But then you remember that he was waiting for so long. And that you want him to be happy; that's all you really want.

And Malia makes him happy. You still see his panicked face, you can't forget about Stiles during all this nogitsune drama and when you compare that Stiles with the laughing Stiles you see now in the cafeteria, everything is clear and there are absolutely no doubts.

So you wait and keep on doing nothing. You swallow words and bite your lips and avoid eye contact.


You miss Allison. Allison was an expert about love. You only know how to play, but you used to play with Stiles Stilinski once upon a time for too long, for so long, that you fell for him and he stoped being into you.

Allison would have known what to do.


The worst thing, you decide while sitting in your room and pretending to be studying, the worst thing is that he was there all along.


Or maybe, you think about this while taking a shower, maybe the worst thing is that he hasn't hugged you since Malia and damn, you miss it so much.


Of course, there is a lot of equally terrible things, like all of the mean words he has ever heard from you and which you remember oh, too well, like the cruel concept of role reversed and a paradox of not fighting for your love, because you love, the paradox Stiles Stilinski is very familiar with.

There is also a thing called red string of fate, but you try your best not to think about it, but sometimes, on the cold, lonely nights, you cling to it.

Now that Allison and Stiles are gone and everything is changing so fast, this desperate hope you found in words from Wikipedia page '' The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.'' is all you have.


You pay a price for your own vanity, for your spite and pride and ignorance.

But maybe one day this debt will be paid. And he will return to you.