"And I will find my strength to untape my mouth,
When I used to be afraid of the words,
But with you I've learned just to let it out,
Now my heart is ready to burst.
'Cause I, I feel like I'm ready for love,
And I wanna be your everything and more."
Waking up to Lydia for the first time was not at all how he had imagined it. There was about a metre between them of cold sheets, the battle line had yet to be crossed and Stiles was not feeling like a lucky enough man to test the boundaries. The open curtains allowed streams of light to create a visible glow in the middle of the room, a square puddle, the only enlightenment he'd be getting today.
He looked to his left with tired and gentle eyes. The bump of strawberry blonde was the only evidence there was another in the room. That and the small mewling sounds that were so fucking adorable he became slightly concerned of the possibility he could be sporting morning wood. That would be infinitely awkward.
He heard another whimper as a small fist emerged to grip onto the pillow under her head. Her fingers relaxed and contacted over and over again. Stiles tapped his fingers to the back of his hand patiently waiting for her brain and body to catch up with the morning sun. The girl rolled towards him and onto her back, a guttural noise disturbing the silence. He could tell from her wincing expression that the effects of last night had caught up. Stiles had seen bruises blossoming on her wrists and up her arms as she had fidgeted in her sleep, faint but present. They sparked an intense hatred for the unknown beta. The kind of hatred that could only come from a boy with a fierce love like his.
Her eyes were still squeezed shut as she spoke in a broken voice, "what time is it?"
Stiles raised his eyebrows before contorting his face into different expressions, stretching his face muscles like he stretched his arms. He checked for his cell that had fallen into the sheets in no mans land. Stiles flapped the blankets before the black screen came into view and picked it up to find nothing. He didn't have any texts or calls, nothing. He pushed down the feelings of annoyance and neglect before reciting the time back to Lydia, still with her eyes squeezed shut.
He'd been there so many times. Waking up and not wanting to open you're eyes. There was a finality in it. Seeing the world around you hadn't crashed and burned, the sun had in fact risen, and the day before had in fact happened.
He sighed and asked the expected, "are you okay?". The amount of times he'd asked this question, or heard it spoken to him, were upsettingly multitudinous. His dad asking if he was 'okay' every week over a bowl of soggy cereal and half assed toast. Scott asking with his eyes trained on the school corridor in front of him 'cause he just knew the answer would be there in the boys eyes, and it wouldn't be the one he wanted. His ex-girlfriend speaking through a sigh while she wrote notes down in the library faster than he'd ever seen anyone write anything, because she'd always had to work twice as fast and twice as hard as everyone else. The girl next to him was the only one who had asked so few times he could count them on his fingers. Perhaps it was because she rarely needed to ask to know.
"Yeah." The sound came from a place he hadn't heard from before. Low and tired. He supposed this was what lethargic lying sounded like on her. He didn't like it.
They emerged from her room a few minutes later. Lydia had opened her eyes with reverence towards the yellow sun. It's ability to raise every morning so perpetually, despite how harsh or cruel the world had become, was a trait Lydia had coveted for since her so called lover had abandoned her for a plane to London. She remembered the hurt that caring for that asshole had caused her, she promised herself after that no boy would ever hurt her like he had, she wouldn't let them.
Lydia's best friend was pottering around in the kitchen like a mother of six who'd stayed up past 12 for the first time in years. Her usual tidy bottle blonde hair was now a matted mess on the top of her head, and the blue t-shirt Lydia had forced her to buy was hanging off one tanned shoulder almost teasingly. ("I'll never wear it" "trust me, everyone wears sweats." "Not me, I'm always dressed to fuck."). Tilly pulled out bowls from an overhead cupboard and started lining them up on the counter. She scratched the scar under her jaw from when she was eight as she studied two of the smaller bowls before grabbing one and piling it back in with the others.
Lydia yawned deeply before questioning her best friends motives behind ruining her kitchen. It was still only 7 in the morning so the supposed to be pissed off tone came out bored and mildly confused.
Tilly's eyes didn't leave the weighing scales as she answered off handedly, "making frosting."
Stiles frowned at Lydia with an unspoken question. "Why?" Lydia voiced the question without the need of his non-verbal prompting.
"So, the weir- Stiles? What are you...?" Tilly's finger posed a physical demonstration for what she was thinking. It pointed at Stiles at first before moving up and down over his bed worn clothes from the party, before the worn down manicure drifted to Lydia and began moving between them. "Di-?"
"No." The words over-lapped as Stiles' was spoken with a tired sigh and Lydia's with a forceful annoyance.
"So...what is this then?" She gestured to the circumstance with a palm face down in front of her.
Lydia brought all the air she could muster to blow out her cheeks like a hamster, then breathed out slowly letting her cheeks deflate. This was a telltale sign she needed to think before she spoke. If Tilly knew Lydia as well as the boy did, she'd know this was something Lydia did to delay a lie.
"Stiles dropped me back here and crashed cause he didn't have a key to get into his place. No biggie." Lydia said it so smoothly Stiles started to question how often she had to lie like that. Has to be more than he'd figured before.
"...and he slept in your bed?" Tilly's eyes narrowed into the same look that Lydia had had when he told her to get rid of her little dog.
"Well...yeah, I guess." Lydia was lying incredibly well. Stiles had yet to speak up.
Tilly laughed through smirking lips before turning her back to look through the fridge. He glanced down at the strawberry blonde and used his head to spastically gesture to the blonde a few metres away, as if to say, "aren't you 'gonna tell her?". She gave a small shake of the head, knowing it was best to just let Tilly think whatever she wanted than argue with her.
"Why the frosting?" The boys voice didn't croak like Lydia's had.
"Right. So, the weirdest thing, y'know how we went to that party last night?" Tilly spoke with her exaggerated tone, while pointing at them with a whisk she'd pulled from God knows where.
"Yeah..."
"Good, 'cause maybe you could fill me in?" The cupboard slammed shut on her last word. The sound echoed through the house as demand all on its own.
"You got pretty wasted Till." Lydia feigned sympathy as she settled into a stool. The creaking of the wood caused the girl to grit her teeth with unease.
"Yeah, I remember jack shit. Like, literally nothing." The relief felt by Lydia and Stiles was, to them, like a bottle of water in a drought. She'd didn't remember. Thank the fucking heavens. "That never happens, I mean I get blackouts, but..." Tilly winced as if it was painful just to say, "I don't remember a thing."
Lydia frowned her in fake intrigue, "guess it's just one of those things." Tilly didn't appear to be taking this as answer so she speedily redirected her, "what's all this got to do with frosting?"
Tilly actually looked like her mum had just walked in on her trying on big red heels, five sizes too big, and not belonging to her. "I'm making buttercream icing, it helps me think." She added with a small shrug and a sheepish expression.
"That's weird." Stiles scrunched up his nose. As if his habit of putting whipped cream on orange juice was any better. ("Stiles, that's disgusting. Why would you even-" "Lydia, this is genius. The sweetness of the cream balances out the bitterness of the juice so it's like-" "and the texture? What's that like?" "Nothing's perfect, OK.")
"Well no one asked you Stiles." Tilly spoke almost venomously, had it not been for the small twinkle in her eye he may have been taken aback.
"Whatever, you're not making frosting anyway. We don't have any icing sugar." Lydia grabbed an apple from the fruit basket.
"Dammit, I didn't check for ingredients." Tilly slammed another cupboard closed.
Lydia couldn't put her finger on it but something felt off. Like when you put you're shoes on the wrong feet; everything seems like it should be normal but it's unusually uncomfortable. A need for some fresh air became apparent. Just some space and she'd be fine.
"Why don't I go pick some up for you? The store just down the street should be open around about now, right?" She slid off the stool with both palms pressed against the counter.
"oh Lyds you're a doll, thank you." Tilly visibly relaxed.
"...and maybe, because I'm doing you a solid, you wouldn't mind changing my sheets for me. I was supposed to do it like a week ago."
Tilly scoffed with her eyes wide like an owl, "nothing's free these days is it?"
XxxxX
The fresh outdoors were always a nice way to wake up. The usually busy streets were empty with the early morning sun barely up. The sky was an empty blue, colour never interrupted by a single cloud. Lydia was thankful for the break from her bestie, unfortunately Stiles had been left behind after she forced him into aiding Tilly with her chores. Undoubtedly he would be demanding an apology later.
Lydia dug out her cell from the bottom of her jacket pocket. The screen was blank, representing the packs lack of communication despite the modern technologies of texting. She scrolled through her contacts, hovering for a second over the goofy picture of Scott trying to lick the camera like the dog he technically is, before loading up Kira's mobile number. She answered on the 3rd ring.
"Hey, it's me." She swerved out of the way as a young beagle sniffed at her feet, "Yeah, I'm fine...Tilly's fine too, mostly. She doesn't remember anything...I know, hopefully nothing like this will happen again." She could hear rustling on the other end of the line, like bedsheets being moved around. "I think he bruised my wrists a little, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right...I promise, I'm fine." The sound of a door shutting in the distance as the girl approached the small 24 hour store. "Scott's still over there?...what else did she say?"
Lydia began searching down each aisle as Kira began reciting her conversation with Malia from a few hours ago. "Well at least he's got a handle on it. No one else is gonna get hurt now...I guess so." She found a bag of icing sugar on the back of the second aisle and carried it to the till. "Yeah, Stiles just crashed at mine last night...I know...yep, I'm at a shop now though." She handed over the sugar and some notes from her pocket, "I'll ask him when I get back," the cashier handed her a bag and her change, "yeah OK...call me if you hear anything else...bye."
XxxxX
"Did Lydia say which ones she wanted us to change them to?" Stiles opened the cupboard to find shelves full of different floral and butterfly patterns.
"No just pick any." Tilly shouted through the bedroom of her door.
"Does she hate any of them in particular?" He ran his hands down the pinks to feel for any really soft ones.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?"
"You're her roommate aren't you?"
"I swear to God Stiles, just pick some." He scoffed and grabbed the one on the top. Of course each duvet cover was neatly folded with the matching pillow cases on top. Tilly emerged from her room, her blonde hair now brushed out and reaching just past her shoulders. Her face was freshly washed but she was still sporting the sweats he assumed she'd slept in. "Oh good, you've finally done something right."
"Oomph, harsh." He pressed the hand holding the pillow cases to his stomach.
Lydia's room was exactly how'd they'd left it a half hour ago. The bed was unmade and messy, while everything else was positively pristine. Tilly threw him a raised eyebrow over her shoulder, hinting something he chose to ignore. She walked to the side of the bed that Lydia had been nestled in last night and grabbed the top of the duvet. With one overly dramatic flourish she threw the sheets back so they folded over the end of the bed. Stiles strolled over to the opposite side of the bed and followed her gaze to the soft pink sheet covering her brand new mattress. Silence hung between them as Till stared at the sheets in thought. It took him a moment...
"Oh my god, Tilly, we didn't have sex, Jesus Christ!" He dumped the clean cloths on the floor and tugged the rest of the covers to join them.
"Okay, I was just confirming no need to blow your cheese out."
"What? That's not even-...Tilly just let it go OK?"
"Fine." They continued to strip off all the sheets and throw them in a pile, relatively silently. He could've sworn he saw Tilly checked the bin for condoms at least 4 times.
"Y'know sometimes I really don't know how you do it." Tilly spoke.
"Me neither, you're incredibly difficult to be around."
"I wasn't referring to me, Stiles." She said matter-of-factly.
"Then what exactly are you referring to?" The poor boy was way too tired to deal with this right now.
"Lydia. Being around her, sleeping in the same bed as her, when all the while you're...y'know."
"I really don't." He really did.
"When you have feelings for her." Tilly wasn't looking looking at him, much too concentrated on covering the pillow with clean fabrics.
"What are you talking about? Who told you that?" Stiles forced an airy tone.
"No one had to tell me, in case you forgot I passed top of my class in the social sciences." She began arranging the pillows carefully.
"You passed top of your class in everything." Just like Lydia did.
"True, but beyond the point. Lydia told me about the crush you had on her for over a decade."
"It was not over a decade, okay. Look that was when I was 16 and a virgin, I'm over it."
"That's not what Lydia thinks."
"What does Lydia think? Have you guys been talking about it? Oh my god, does she think I have feelings for her?" He tripped over every other word in his haste to get it all out. Tilly simply raised her eyebrows in victory. "Look, I just don't want Lydia thinking something that just isn't true, her ego's big enough as it is." He shrugged it off but the blonde wasn't convinced.
"Whatever you say Stillinski. If you ask me you should just come right out with it, she ain't gonna be there forever."
"Well, I appreciate the advice. But I'd rather avoid that embarrassing conversation." Both of them subtlety ignored Stiles' confession.
They pulled the duvet up together and looked at the freshly made bed in pride. "Wanna know what I think you should do?"
"Nope." Stiles scooped up the dirty sheets and headed for the door.
"Make her jealous. Oh my god, we could make her jealous. Girls like Lydia react to that stuff, if she thinks someone's treading on her territory she'll react and then she's bound to make a move and you won't have to."
"Hmm, clever, but irrelevant. I'm not making her jealous, that's childish and pathetic."
"Right, but sitting around pining for one of your best friends while she's off rendezvousing with a new guy every week is not childish or pathetic at all."
"I'm not 'sitting around', neither am I 'pining', and Lydia is not 'rendezvousing with a new guy every week'."
"How many girlfriends have you had since you started your little crush?"
"...1. But that really is more of a comment on me as a person than my feelings for Lydia."
"Nuh uh, you're an attractive guy, believe me. There's a reason you haven't spread your wings and flown, and it's because you can't fly sitting down."
Stiles mind started reeling back the last 6 or so years. There had been girls, not very many but they were there, flirty smiles and feminine giggles. Then there had been Malia, the first one to actually stick. She was committed and loyal. He never had to worry about her, he trusted her with his life - still did. She'd stuck by him for pretty much everything. He liked that, in fact that was what drew him to her. He had always been her first choice above everyone, and she was always enough for him. A girl who liked him and wanted him, who was funny and sweet and honest. But somewhere along the way (he knew exactly where) she stopped being enough. She stopped being what he needed and he knew he was no longer what she needed. The loyalty she had that he used to love made him feel sick. It was too much for him. He needed someone to care as much as he did. He saw how Malia was willing to just sweep it under the rug, a kid died and she would just forget about it for him. He knew she probably thought that would make him feel better but it didn't. God knows it made everything worse. He wanted her to care. When it ended, neither of them had to say it, they just knew. There were no hard feelings, it was a good relationship; she gave him a mature affinity, with someone to trust and care for, while he gave her someone to rely on for...pretty much everything. But once she had everything she needed and the novelty of having a girlfriend wore off, well no one thought they were soulmates.
No one else had come close to something real. Heather had been taken from him before the seed could even be planted. He'd never asked for Caitlin's number - there was too much happening for him to start anything anyway. Cora had been off bounds from the start. Erica...she didn't deserve what happened to her. But even when she was around, he just didn't feel it. Chloe from the coffee shop didn't pick up his call that one time he rung the number she gave him at 6 in the morning on a Saturday, right before he blocked it. Then last month, the girl Rebecca, who was extremely keen, she had too many piercings for his liking. Then finally a week after that the girl Kira introduced him to, who's name he can't even remember, was too boring. Maybe beggars could be chooses.
Stiles swallowed.
"It's because you could never pick someone over Lydia. Because somewhere deep down in that brain of yours you still think it could happen." Stiles sat down slowly on the sofa, Tilly's words seemed to be taking their time sinking in.
"You think I'm being naïve?" He stared at his hands with his elbows lent on his knees.
"No, I think your being patient. Too patient." She sighed, looking at the love stricken boy on her couch.
Both of them jumped slightly when the door opened. Lydia had a shopping bag in one hand and her phone and keys in the other. She was too busy balancing everything while she nudged the door shut with her foot to notice the tension in the room, "I got it." She shook the bag in front of their faces.
Neither Tilly nor Stiles said anything, just raised their eyebrows slowly and held them there. Both completely distracted.
"What? Did I interrupt something?" The banshee looked around as if they were ignoring someone else.
"No...no we were just- could I get that, thanks." Tilly took the bag from her and wandered into the kitchen before Lydia could reply. The girl looked between her best friend and the boy one level below that. Something still wasn't right. Why was Tilly being weird? Why did Stiles look like he was waiting for a question to be asked? She - quite enthusiastically - gestured with her head towards her bedroom. Stiles looked behind him longingly before following her.
"Does she know?!" Lydia whisper-shouted.
"...know?" Stiles felt his palms beginning to clam up. He must've underestimated how perceptive Lydia really was.
"Know. About last night?"
"Oh! No, no, she doesn't know anything about that, it's all good...in the hood." He frowned at himself.
Lydia looked behind her at the door and did a double take, "so...what was all tha-?"
"Lydia I don't know what you're talking about and I need to get home. It's like 10 already."
"It's 7:45."
"Exactly, I'll catch you later."
"Wait, you need to call Scott. I spoke to Kira and apparently she can't get through to him, she thought maybe you could." She was still frowning at him sceptically.
"Scott? Right, yeah OK." He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and pulled up Scotts number, all the while ignoring the way Lydia was looking at him as if she caught him looking at her butt. "I have like 5% so I don't know how long this is gonna last. I mean I don't even know if he'll pi- Scott? Hey yeah it's me, how's it hanging...yeah I'm fine, Lydia's fine, Kira's pissed." Lydia began pacing listening intently to the only half of the conversation she could hear. "Uh huh...well we got everything handled on this half, nobody dead yet." She made a face of approval, "good, good. Y'know when you're gonna get back?...OK, I guess we'll talk about it then." He hung up the phone with a new feeling of calm.
"Well...?" She stopped pacing in front of him with one hand on her hip and the other playing with the pendant around her neck.
"He's fine, everything under control. He's gonna head back soon and then we can all talk about it."
"That's it?"
"Yeah...until he gets back, that's it." Stiles shrugged. He'd be lying if he said that's all he needed, but Scott and Malia were OK. Lydia was safe and Tilly was completely unaware. For now, he could be patient.