post 02 x 12 || pre 03 x 01: Jackson
It's been a while since the night Jackson was killed - and then not killed - and then was a werewolf - and Lydia knows he's leaving tonight, and since she's admitted her love for him she thinks that the last time she will see him will be that day, where she showed him the house key he'd given her. She's upset that he's leaving - but Derek apparently has given him "Werewolf 101", so she thinks he will be fine in London. But at the same time, she really doesn't want him to leave, because her heart is teetering dangerously between falling into a deep, dark abyss that will never end and a few dozen miles of a chasm with knives sticking out of the wall so when her heart reaches the bottom to shatter into a million, unfix-able pieces it will already be damaged, and really not worth saving.
Lydia lying in her bed, on her side, curled into a ball with her pillow tucked into her stomach. Her eyes are squeezed shut. Tear tracks can be seen in the dark, if one looks close enough at her face, and her arms hugging the pillow as if it's the only thing keeping her alive.
She feels exhausted, but she can't sleep, and it's bothering her, and she knows she's going to have to wash her pillow case (and probably her pillow) because she's been soaking it in her tears since she fell into bed at eleven o'clock, three hours ago.
There's a knock on her bedroom door and she bolts upright. She drops the pillow onto the floor and frantically swipes at her cheeks with the heels of her palms. If her mother sees that she's been crying she's going to really think her daughter's crazy and -
The door opens, even though she didn't say "come in" or get up or anything, and she claps a hand over her mouth to see that it's Jackson stepping into her room (soundlessly - it must be a werewolf thing, to be so quiet) and shutting the door behind him.
Lydia stares as Jackson wordlessly walks over to her bed and plops himself down at the end of it. She doesn't make a sound (her mouth is still clamped over her lips, and tears are beginning to leak out of her eyes again, and over her hand and onto her pajama top), because if she speaks he's going to know how upset she is, and she's done so well at not showing that she cares, but she can't do that anymore because she told him that she still loves him and -
Jackson doesn't speak. All she sees is a hand appear on her arm and suddenly she and the covers are being dragged further down the bed, and how he managed to get her on his lap with her legs tangled in the sheets and his arms around her so suddenly (with his head buried in the crook of her neck - his lips are tickling her there and it only makes her cry harder) that she realizes that she has to remember to blink.
They don't say anything, as Jackson holds her, breathing into her skin, inhaling her essence, with her squeezing her eyes shut and allowing him to hold her like this, because this is goodbye, and since neither of them want to say it, neither of them will.