Insert my squeal with Monday night's episode. The Ice rink scene was more than enough to make my inner fan girl self to emerge, and I decided that my Stiles/ Lydia shipping will not die out.
With Erica, I found her character very... bold, I suppose. Her over confidence annoys me, (much like Jackson's, but I've gotten used to his) yet I understand her sudden view on everything. Just thought I'd add my opinion considering everyone loathes her.
I own nothing towards Teen Wolf. No profit, loves. Just entertainment.
Sets in Season 2.
I stared at her.
For seconds that felt like hours, my eyes never left her face. She had freckles on the tip of her nose that scattered across her cheeks which were the softest pink from the cold that I've never noticed before; I blame her makeup. I wanted to kiss them, all of them. Each small freckle from the tip of her nose down to her cheeks until I felt her lips.
"Stiles?" she managed to chock out. She squirmed in my grip. Her green eyes were so huge.
I let go of her reluctantly, feeling both elated that I embraced her and she said my name without it followed by, 'what's going on?' or 'can I see your notes from Chemistry?', and also like a total shit heel for being so ignorant.
Way to maul her like some kind of serial pervert, Stiles.
"Sorry, I just..." Agitatedly, I rank a hand across my hair, swearing foully under my huffed breath. She made me act as if I were thirteen all over again: anxious and awkward, tongue- tied and nervous. I though I left all that puberty shit behind me in junior high...
Fumbling momentarily for something slightly intelligent to say, I took note of the rest of her. I'd been far too busy ogling her flushed face to recognize she wasn't even wearing a coat; simply a thin vintage dress that pulls down the high of her knees, and looks so beautiful on her I couldn't even wrap my words around my thoughts. Her legs were bare and she was wearing a pair of red sandals. "Christ, Lydia, where's your coat at?"
She gaped, "what?"
"Your coat? It's freezing out!"
"I didn't bring a coat," she said slowly, as if I'd grown another head. Her cheeks were swollen red, her her eyes growing glassy because of her tears of the mere fact it was so damn cold out.
Looking back, it wasn't the keenest ideas to move so quickly to hold her. Hell, Jacksonjust slammed her on the lockers, I wouldn't expect anything less from any other girl to be in tears and to have ran out.
I stepped close to her, like right in her personal space. She took a step back, but I grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her a bit closer to me gently. It was odd, really. If I could witness myself being so confident in front of a girl I couldn't even have the nerve to have a conversation with, why was I being so open with her all of a sudden?
I felt how cold her skin was on mine. She gasped this sexy miniature noise as she hastily tilted her upper body away from me, being so distant it hit me right in the self- esteem. I didn't care how hard she tried resiting, I needed her in my arms; she belonged there, anyway.
"Let me take you home," I order sweetly. I hastily release her and strip off the black hoodie that was currently keeping my bare forearms warm over my head. Awkwardly placing it over her head, it surprised me when she didn't jerk away from my sudden actions. The PDA was a bit much, but I'd do anything to keep her safe and warm.
So I'm a bit cliché? Sue me.
She struggled to get her arms out, her strawberry blond hair going static- y sticking every which way. It practically reaches her knees. I liked seeing her in it.
"My mom will be here soon." she mumbles out, sniffing and shuffling her feet. Confusion was written all over her face. She started twisting her hands up in the long sleeves as she glanced across the street, "you don't have to drive me..."
"I want to," I reply, jamming my hands in my cargo pants. So much for dressing up.
She opened her mouth then closed it and bit her lip. She clears her throat twice and stared down at her feet. Her sandal -ed feet, for Christ's sake.
"You're in summer clothes and it's practically fourteen degrees," I caught her wrist and steered her towards the empty school. "My mom would have a fit if she knew I let a girl walk home without a coat. Nonetheless crying."
My mom. Why was I talking about my mother to a girl that barely spoke a sentence to me?
"I'm not walking, my mom's coming to get me. And... -and I'm not crying." she defends lamely with a small sob, "and do you mind?" she practically ran to catch up to me, seeing as I still had her wrist in my palms.
She jerks her arm back, and sniffs.
That sounded like Lydia.
I paused and looked at her, a bit scarred on what she was going to say next, "I'm not a dog, Stiles, you don't have to look after me every five seconds," she spat, puffing her chest and tucking a strand of loose hair from her messy bun behind her ear.
It was then I noticed her hair was actually up. I've only seen it once; in the fifth grade we had to run laps in gym class every Wednesday, she let a girl put her hair up. It was odd seeing it up now. It was pulled back and lazily done. Yet with her makeup stained with tears lied imperfectly on her cheeks, her hair up and my hoodie on her torso, I was convinced she got more beautiful each time I looked at her.
"I just," I shrug, "hate seeing you like this. You deserve waaayy better," I chuckle out nervously, yet sternly. I wouldn't say it if I hadn't meant it. "And maybe I'm not, but anything's better then Jackson."
She gulps slightly and looks away. She seemed to be speechless so I took the opportunity to steer her out of the cold and into the nearest hallway towards the gymnasium.
A small dance celebrating a new semester was thrown by the student consul, and it was something to keep everyone's hormones in the ready when it came to actually dancing. Most of the crowed went home at seeing the Beacon Hills King went to Danny, and Queen went straight to Allison.
I remember stepping into the hallway when I saw Lydia bursting into tears, her body tense on the lockers while Jackson bumped into my shoulder when leaving.
"You can't let him ruin your night, you know." I state, peering inside the gymnasium. There were a group of people seated on the bleachers, saying they were having fun but were just staring enviously at the dates kissing and what not.
"It's already ruined. He just... added on to it."
I blink, and I slowly start walking around a corner, she follows. "It couldn't have been that bad."
She chuckles, though and huffs her breath before looking down sadly. It broke my heart. She was so head over heels for a guy that only hurt her.
Yeah? Story of my life.
When she said nothing, I halted my walking and sighed. We were just in front of the hallway doors that lead outside. Coming inside was practically pointless, beside the fact it was warmer, and was a shortcut to where I parked my Jeep.
"You okay?" I asked, desperately wanting to brush her hair out of her eyes. "I um, didn't mean to drag you around. It's just... cold."
"I'm okay." she was attempting to smooth down her hair, her eyes avoiding my face. In the many fantasies, this wasn't quite what I had in mind. "I really don't need a ride, Stiles. My mom should be on her way, and you hardly even know me."
I almost gasp.
Almost.
"I know that you're the smartest person I've even met," I force myself to lock my gaze with her. She looks away and opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. "I know that even though you avoid that night at the dance it's still on your mind."
She snaps her mouth shut and stares at her feet. "And, I know that you deserve way more than me, and Jackson. I know that I've had a massive crush on you since the third grade and I know this means nothing to you but I have to say it."
She stared at me for a few endless moments while blushing.
"Aw- shit. Erm, I mean," I huff, "shit." I didn't really mean it to all spill out like that.
"Thank you," she grins and looks down. Her blush still a bit noticeable.
"It's all true." It was silent. She kept her grin on, hugging her arms cutely. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. "Have dinner with me tonight."
She bit her lip and suddenly I was terrified she would say no. Dammit, I was such a nobe. What the hell was the point of waiting all these years, Goddamn years, to approach her if I was just going to blow it?
I started blabbering like the insensitive baboon I was. "I meant, like have dinner with me, as in I'm asking, not- not telling you. I would never do that, I was just- you know wondering. You don't have to or anything. I mean- if your busy or something I totally understand. A beautiful girl-" I stop myself, and look at the ground.
I'm going to kill myself. Lock myself in a room with Scott on a Full Moon and just sit their while he mauls me to death...I deserve it, after all.
"I'd love to."
I knew my mouth had been hanging open like was trying to catch fucking flies or some shit, but I couldn't seem to lock it. "wha-?"
She smiles shyly. "And," she shakes her head and frowns, "I'm not beautiful."
"Yeah you are Lydia," I murmured. God help me, she really was. Her freckly pink cheeks and her light hair all static-ed like. I wanted to push her up against the building and heat her up. I wanted to make-out with her for a few hours. I craved to make her oblivious about everything besides me. I needed to be the only thing in her existence.
She blushed and looked away. "I'm sorry- for ripping your head off back there," she chuckles anxiously and crosses her arms over her chest, nodding back towards the school.
"'s cool."
She grins and waits a moment before explain why in hell she'd be interested in sitting through dinner with me. But she doesn't, simply stands, bare legs and sandals, while hugging herself warm.
"You'll have dinner with me tonight? For real?" I ask.
"Well it isn't everyday a good looking guy asks you out," her eyes were dancing and it left me breathless. "Or, chews you out for not wearing a coat."
She thought I was good looking.
Me.
The minute I had privacy, I was going to dance my happy dance for about an hour.
I nonchalantly cleared my throat. I didn't want to alert her to my inner happy thoughts, or act like a complete dumb- ass loser then I already was. It was going to be suave- town from her on out.
She pulled out her phone and began typing. I frowned momentarily but said nothing. She stuck it in her purse and tucked an extra strand of strawberry blond behind her reddened ear. "Sorry," she says, giving me a slightly apologetic smile.
"Your mom?" I ask. Idiot. "Well, I mean not like you wouldn't text anyone else beside your mom, er- no that's not what I meant I mean-"
So much for suave- town, dumb- ass. More like doofus- junction...
I clear my throat and avoid her gaze, "never mind." I grumble.
Her fingers tickling my bare arm with cold finger snapped me back to her focus. "How about we start that dinner?" she smirks, her eyes teasing me.
"I'll start anything you want," I breathed and took the risk of grasping her hand. She took it and blushed, looking the other way.
I wasn't alone, but I did my happy dance anyway.
Everyone go read awordycontradiction 's stories if you love Stydia together. And don't forget, I acept any type of reviews. Thank you again loves.