Lydia was so relieved when Stiles opened his eyes.

"Oh God. I fainted, didn't I?" was the first thing he said.

Stiles tried to sit up but she and Scott both put their palm on his chest and gently pushed him down to rest. His father was going to be there in a few minutes. His face was still worryingly pale, his eyes watery and tired, he looked like he had a fever.

Lydia was watching Stiles right in the eyes when she felt a strange weight on the stomach; suddenly, she understood. Outside, Aiden was dying.

The sheriff took both of them to his house and he tucked his son under the blankets but he couldn't stay; he had to go back to the school where Aiden died fighting the Onis, clean the mess and explain what the really couldn't even explain to himself. Lydia was asked to babysit Stiles.

Of course she would do it.

First thing she looked for a thermometer, gave it to Stiles and went downstairs to make him a cup of tea.

"Careful, it's hot." She said giving him the tea. She glanced at the nightstand and asked "What did the thermometer say?"

"101.6" he cough.

"Maybe you should take something, an aspirin, some…"

"Lydia, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine". He just smiled but his smile was sad.

She was sit in the bed in front of him, just appreciating the fact that at not all her best friends were dead. She thought of Allison, wondering how she could live without her and how long would that wound hurt. Will they continue to lose their friends? Will this supernatural madness ever stop so they could be normal teenagers again?

Lydia heard a soft thud; Stiles had put down the mug of tea and had reached her chin with his hand, he lifted it a little bit, his eyes meeting hers. "Lydia... ehi."

"It's ok… I'll move on." A tear ran down her check; she wiped it off with the back of her right hand.

"I'm sorry"

"Stiles it's not your fault. It was not your fault."

"Everybody keeps saying me that but it feels like it is. I…" and then he yawned

"Stiles… close your eyes and rest. You need some sleep." She sat up and went to kiss his forehead but he turned his head so their forehead met, instead. Lydia was sensing the warmth of his fever on the top of her head but she was too distracted by that beautiful brown eyes to even care. She had never noticed how beautiful were his eyes, just like she never noticed how big was his heart.

Stiles was observing her too. His heart was pounding faster and faster, his breaths were deeper and deeper every second, like he was trying to capture her scent to never let it vanish from his memory. He closed his eyes and went for it. For a moment his mouth touched hers and he could have sworn that he felt electricity running between them.

Lydia abruptly drifted apart: "Goodnight Stiles". She turned off the light and sat in the chair next to his desk, thinking why she didn't let him kiss her while waiting for the sheriff to come home.