"She's got that good girl faith
and a tight, little skirt''.
It had been almost two weeks since Lydia's study session with Stiles. Jackson had called her, interrupting something that she knew shouldn't have happened. Guilt had flooded her system when she saw her caller ID, his name flashing up at her.
She had answered, only to quickly regret. Jackson had been drunk, slurring down the phone to her. Telling her heloved her, he missed her, why couldn't she come home? It had taken Lydia several minutes to try and placate him, to tell him that loved him too, that she missed him as well - but she couldn't come home. It didn't work like that.
So Jackson had gotten angry, yelling at her through the device and making the girl flinch as if he was standing beside her, not three thousand miles away. Lydia had quickly hung up, too aware of Stiles who was still in the kitchen behind her. Her cheeks were warming and she had stared at the floor when she told him she needed to leave. Her phone was stuffed into her bag, sitting silently like a time bomb, just waiting to go off again.
He hadn't stopped her, he didn't try and make her stay. Instead he had nodded, watching her with careful eyes. The boy had grabbed his car keys and helped her gather her things. They had walked in silence together, down to the car park and into the rain. It bounced off of the pavement and dulled the world with it's deafening roar.
Stiles had grabbed Lydia's hand, making her run with him across the lot. They had raced through puddles, water bouncing around their ankles and soaking them right through. When Stiles led them to an old, banged up jeep, Lydia didn't have the energy to question his vehicle choice. He opened the door for her and helped her in and Lydia noticed how his eyes burned through her, taking in her wet hair and the way her jumper stuck to her skin.
It had only taken them ten minutes to drive across campus and the sky raged above them the whole time. Stiles had parked the Jeep as close to Lydia's building as he could. He'd killed the engine, letting the sound of the surround the Jeep.
Lydia had been warm, comfortable in the car. It was cosy in a way, almost soothing as she listened to the rain. Stiles hadn't said a word to her and after the night's events, she was okay with that. She was in the midst of gathering her things when Stiles eventually spoke.
The girl had had her fingers wrapped around the door handle, ready to run to her doorway. Her key card was already in her grip, her still wet jumper sleeves falling down past her fingers. When she felt Stiles hand touch her knee, she jumped slightly, turning to look at him.
"You know, you should be having fun right now''.
The boy's words were vague, and his voice was soft - Lydia hardly heard him over the sound of the car being pelted with raindrops. She gazed up at him curiously, watching as he smiled at her. It was different from the smirks he usually threw at her, or the playful grins she had seen earlier that night.
This smile had looked tired, weary. He tapped out a beat on the steering wheel with his fingers, a small distraction from the words that seemed to be stuck in his throat.
"What is that supposed to mean?'' Lydia prompted, leaning forward to look at him. Her hair hung heavily from its bun, feeling damp around her neck. Loose curls fell around her face, framing her big eyes and making her look wild.
Stiles found it hard to look at her, her perfume mixed with the scent of rain in the small cab had Stiles fidgeting, on edge. Her bare legs were stretched out in front of her and he drove across the campus imagining all the ways he could pull her over the gear stick and onto his lap.
"I mean'', Stiles winced awkwardly, fearing she would yell at him again, and in a way, he kind of wanted her to. "What I'm trying to say is, you're obviously not happy with this guy…''
The boy watched Lydia's brow furrow and the colour in her cheeks deepened slightly - and as adorable as it was, he didn't want another argument. Not yet.
"And before you say anything, I know we've only known each other a few days - but it's hard not to pick up on the fact that you're clearly not that into your relationship - well, not as much as you claim to be''.
Stiles swallowed hard, wondering if he had crossed the line again. The girl parted her lips as if to speak, but instead she let out a sigh. She slumped against the chair, her head leaning back as she closed her eyes. Lydia was silent for a few moments, taking in what the boy had said to her - what this still, practically a stranger to her, had told her about her own relationship.
She surprised both herself and Stiles when she nodded.
"You're not happy?'' Stiles asked, his voice low and nothing more than a murmur. The situation suddenly felt so serious, so intimate in their little cocoon shielded from the rain.
Lydia shrugged and let out a humourless laugh, pulling her phone out of her bag and glancing at the four missed calls on her screen. She tapped a polished nail against it, as if deciding what to do, what to say, what to think.
"Why are you still with him?'' Stiles asked her, turning to look at Lydia. She gave in and met his gaze, surprised to see how soft his eyes had turned, how warm they looked despite the lack of light both the car and the sky.
"He's familiar, he's routine'', Lydia twisted her lips into a sad smile, glancing up at Stiles through her lashes, "He's the only guy I've been with - he's the guy who told me that he was going to marry me when we were just seventeen''.
Stiles smiled slightly, noticing how she perked up at the memory. But then her frown returned and she picked at the frayed edges of her shorts.
"But then he started getting too invested in his sports, took lacrosse too seriously - spent too much time in the gym'', she sighed again, smirking up at Stiles, "I became a possession, a prize. I was the trophy that sat on his knee at parties and kissed him good luck in front of his team mates''.
Lydia looked down, some of her hair falling loose and shielding her face. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall, she would not cry in front of his boy. She wouldn't feel weak - she wasn't a kitten, she was a fucking tigress.
She sniffed slightly and looked back up, watching the raindrops race down the window. Lydia felt his gaze on her, waiting for her to say anything, something. But Stiles was patient and he sat silently.
"I still love him. I think'', Lydia frowned to herself, her own words feeling slightly wrong in her mouth, "I don't think I love him like I used to though - he's not the same person. I'm not in love with him… Does that make sense?''
Stiles cleared his throat, not really expecting her to ask him a question, or even want his opinion on such a topic. But she was looking up at him so earnestly, that his heart did a little dance in his chest.
"Uh yeah, of course. Of course that makes sense'', he told her, "You care about him - that's expected. It doesn't mean you love him though. Even if you did, you still don't have to put up with his bullshit''.
His last few words came out slightly harsher than he intended and he cringed, glancing at the girl apologetically. But Lydia simply smiled.
"I'm tired, y'know? Being with him makes me tired'', she let out another deep sigh, turning her head until her cheek was pressed against the headrest and her eyes were settled on Stiles'. "I don't know what it's like to be single, to have fun, to not care''.
Stiles let out a little grin, "At the age of nineteen, I would definitely recommend you do that soon''.
"I don't want to hurt him though. I don't think I could tell him this''.
Stiles hummed thoughtfully, his eyes trained on the damp hair that clung to Lydia's cheek, curling around her jaw. With a hesitant hand, he reached out and tucked it behind her ear. He was closer now, and when he spoke, Lydia felt his low murmurs fall on her neck. His golden eyes met her own and his words made her hold her breath.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do'', Stiles' fingers brushed her bare leg as he leaned on her seat, "You should think about what you want''.
He looked down at her, the dim light making his cheekbones look sharper, his jaw more angled and his eyes hooded and dark.
"If you want to have some fun in college, you should be able to do that - with whoever you want''.
Lydia smirked despite herself, already regretting the words she spoke before they left her rebellious lips, "Are you offering your own kind of fun to me?''
"Kitten, I could give you all the orgasms you wanted, without any need for loyalty'', he flashed her a dangerous smile.
Stiles had uttered those words to her over a week ago but they still rang clearly in her head. She had merely smirked in reply that night, refusing to let him know how much he had affected her.
But things had been different since then. Their night of arguing, flirting, yelling and dangerous words had led to an almost friendship.
It had been a strange transition, but her and Allison fit in easily with the three boys. With Allison and Scott's relationship with solidifying each day, it was almost natural that Lydia hung out with Stiles more.
Isaac joined them occasionally and every now and again she would see Kira - but for the most part - it was her and Stiles.
Jackson had called her one night when they were in the library together, constantly trying to outwit each other and actually attempting to get some studying done.
She had answered, watching Stiles raise his eyebrows and look away. The boy had been someone she could vent to easily, especially when Allison was otherwise occupied…
He would listen to how Jackson would text her all day, arguing about when she was going to visit, why couldn't she come home for the weekend.
Stiles had never met this guy, but he was quickly forming an intense dislike for him. He constantly kept himself awake at night as he tried to convince himself it had nothing to do with jealousy - he cared about Lydia. As a friend. A friend who he wanted to take up against a wall and sixteen different ways in his bed.
Despite their newly found friendship, their flirting hadn't ceased. In fact, Stiles was sure it had only gotten worse. If they weren't nipping at each other like cat and dog, they were making Isaac uncomfortable with their unnecessary touching and their looks that they held for too long.
Stiles couldn't go longer than a day without calling her Kitten, making her blush and hearing her laugh. He lived to rile her up, only to charm her back down with smiles and flirtatious comments. It's how they worked. Tension was always palpable between them, their chemistry undeniable. It didn't go unnoticed by their friends either. Scott and Allison would nudge each other like children as they observed their friends picking at each other, pushing each other to the side so there was enough room for them to squeeze in next to each other. Stiles would play with Lydia's curls distractedly, his fingers gently lifting the auburn strands up as if they were made of silk. And the girl would let him, not batting an eyelid when his arm could curl round the back of her chair at lunch, when their knees would bump in the cafe.
But whenever Lydia would pause to answer a text from her boyfriend, or answer a call, Stiles would himself become increasingly disgruntled. Most of the time she would walk into the corridor to talk or excuse herself from his apartment, stepping out into the hallway. But now and again she would stay where she was, his arm brushing against her own as she spoke into the phone.
She hadn't broken up with him since their talk that night - instead telling the boy that he needed to calm down and give her some space. Funnily enough, that hadn't went down to well and Lydia's boyfriend called more than ever - demanding that she needed to go home, to visit him. Because he missed her.
Stiles would roll his eyes when Lydia would tell him this. He believed quite strongly that Lydia was one to be missed - hell, he got grouchy when he didn't see her for a few days. But that asshole was down right telling Lydia to hop on a seven hour flight so he could see her for a day or two.
Stiles hated him. He turned his feisty little Kitten into a silent shell of herself, and Stiles could easily imagine letting his slam into Jackson's jaw if they ever met.
He had been sitting beside Lydia one night in his kitchen when she had told Jackson over text that she was with him, studying with her friend that happened to be male. The boy had called her instantly, demanding to know why she was with him, were they alone, why was she partnered with a boy?
When Lydia had gritted her teeth and explained that they were friends, and he was Allison's boyfriend's, room mate - the asshole hadn't taken it any better. Now, every time Lydia would tell her boyfriend that she was with Stiles, the boy could hear Jackson growl down the phone.
He was pretty sure that his hatred was mutual with this guy.
Now, Lydia was sitting on a bench outside of her lecture hall, her nose burrowed in a book and the autumn breeze lifting up her curls. She sensed rather than saw the boy drop down beside her, his long legs stretching out before him. He sighed into the fresh air, casually dropping an arm behind her.
"Kitten'', Stiles' voice was low and almost predatory in her ear.
Both Lydia's lips and eyebrow quirked at his greeting, her head turning slightly to face him. She wasn't all that surprised to find him too close to her - he was always too close to her. His eyes flashed gold and they danced with mischief in front of her.
"Can I help you Stiles?"
"In many, many ways", he grinned wolfishly, taking her book out of her hands and closing it with a quick snap, "but for the time being, you can skip class with me".
Lydia scoffed, taking the book back from his hold and fussing over the fact that he had lost her place. The sleeves of her jumper slipped over her fingers as she thumbed through the chapters and Stiles' gaze settled on the little floral skirt she wore underneath it, almost hidden by the too-large sweaters she loved. She seemed to have one for every day of the week, all adorably cosy looking - but they made Stiles think of her wearing nothing but one, her long legs bare underneath and how she would look bundled up in his bed.
"I'm not skipping class, Stiles, the doors will be open any minute'', she told him, looking around at the students who were gathering for Folklore and Mythology.
"Which is why we need to leave now'', he tugged on her hand, taking her book from her once more as she pouted. He held it away from her grasping reach, looking down at her with eyes that could melt a glacier, "Come on, Kitten, live a little - Scott and Allison are already at ours, we're watching movies and drinking beer''.
His lips curled into a smirk as he watched her defences slip. Lydia looked at him, trying not to smile as he realised he had clearly won her over already. The thought of being curled up on the sofa with Stiles nearby beat attending class any day of the week.
The girl sighed, looking around the busy hallway guilty, she grabbed the book from him before stuffing it back in her bag, smiling when Stiles chuckled. He pulled her to her feet and led her down the corridor and out into the sunshine just as Professor Hale's voice echoed through the classroom.
"You're terrible, I swear!'', Lydia laughed, watching Stiles wander through the busy courtyard, illuminated by the sun.
"Oh, come on - all we do in that class is go over our project anyway, we can do that tonight, I promise'', Stiles turned and pulled gently on her ponytail, making her smile and raise her eyebrows at him in doubt.
"We will! I'll even buy you pizza…'', he prompted, falling into an easy step with her.
The cool breeze made loose strands of hair float around her face and her freckles were out in full force with the sunny skies. She scrunched up her nose at the boy, trying not to smile when he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively at her.
"Pizza with extra sweetcorn and double cheese…'', The boy rhymed off her favourite toppings with ease, knowing that she would give in regardless.
"Fine, throw in some ice cream too and it's a deal'', Lydia told him sternly, "And we're studying in the living room!''
Stiles smothered a laugh as he nodded, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her up the stairs to his building. On several occasions, when Lydia had came over to study, he had offered to use the desk space in his bedroom. The first time he mentioned it, the girl had almost fell off of the sofa - she had shook her head so frantically - the idea of being alone with Stiles and in a room with a bed seemed too dangerous to think about it.
Together, they were a bomb waiting to explode, and a bedroom setting seemed like the match they needed to ignite.
"I don't know why you seem to think I'm so intent on getting you into my bed, Miss Martin'', Stiles stooped low to murmur in her ear, his voice a sinister combination of warmth, lust and everything but innocence.
"Maybe it's because you like to tell me you are, at least once a day, Mr Stilinski'', the girl shot back, rolling her eyes as they climbed the stairwell together.
Stiles chuckled darkly, his eyes landing on the curve of the girls ass as he watched her walk up the stairs ahead of him. Her skirt swished delicately around her thighs and Stiles bit down on his lip to hide the groan he was desperate to let out.
"Kitten, if I really wanted to get you into my bed, you'd already be there and wouldn't be leaving for days''.
Lydia let out a soft laugh as she whirled around to face him outside his apartment door. The boy was grinning cheekily, his smirk making his eyes shine. Lydia placed a hand on his chest as she moved into him, looking up from under her lashes as she watched his smirk falter and his Adam's apple bob.
Her whispered words fell on to his parted lips as he stood silently, transfixed by the little thing in front of him.
"It's a good job my self-control is pretty strong then, huh?'', her own words were hushed and sweet, but her eyes deadly and wild.
Stiles laughed, always surprised by her quick wit and sharp tongue, he leaned into her, his fingers curling around the door handle behind her. His body brushed against her own, her chest grazing his as his warm breath moved the hair that curled around her ear.
It was a challenge, a game to them that their friend's found immensely enjoyable to watch. Who would move away first? Who would give in? Or would they fall the other way, into each other and giving into something else entirely?
It was a game of chicken where the odds were all over the place and the thought of losing, and giving in, didn't seem so bad.
The door opened with a click and Stiles leaned back just in time to see the girl release her full, bottom lip from her teeth. She glanced up to him, her smile giving nothing away as she walked into the apartment and was greeted by Allison and her boyfriend.
"Ha! I told you he would get her to come'', Allison grinned triumphantly as she threw a piece of chocolate at Scott.
The boy simply shrugged, holding out his fist for Lydia to pound. It was his usual greeting and she done it with a smile, before narrowing her eyes at her friend.
"You have such little faith in me'', she told the girl, her body finding instant comfort in the couch she sank into.
"Says the girl who's currently ditching class and watching movies with us'', Allison replied with a smirk. She merely laughed when Lydia tutted and flipped her off.
"You need to work on your willpower Lyds'', Scott told her through a mouthful of chips, handing her her own packet to nibble on.
Stiles let out a strangled laugh from behind the fridge, his body only visible as he gathered cans from the shelves. His head popped out and he kicked the door closed, winking at Lydia as he made his way back into the living room.
"Funnily enough, we were just talking about that'', he placed his steady gaze on Lydia, dropping from her eyes to her lips, and back again, "Weren't we, Kitten?''
Lydia blushed at his words and the use of his nickname for her being used around their friends. Allison merely grinned at her, already aware of what their conversation probably held. Lydia would come home to their dorm flustered and pink after every study session, stumbling over words as she told Ally how the boy was a complete flirt and intent on making her combust.
Lydia simply hummed in reply, not trusting herself to open her lips. He grinned at her silence, watching how Scott shook his head at the pair. Their flirtatious attitude had went above and beyond what he anticipated and the boy wasn't at all surprised when Stiles let himself drop into the cushions beside Lydia, their bodies leaning into each other in a way that they probably didn't realise.
Lydia took the can of soda Stiles offered her with a smile of thanks, setting into the sofa as he sat beside her, throwing an arm over the back of her. His fingers grazed her shoulder, gently playing against the sensitive skin of her neck. It was almost natural for the boy, his hands constantly gravitating to her body, however innocent the touch was. But it set Lydia's body alight, her skin burning and her chest aching with need.
But he didn't always seem to notice. Touching this girl had been a necessity to him, ever since the first day the collided in the bathroom. He was sure she would slap him if he pulled her onto his lap, so settled for any little gesture he could get away with. And that was enough, for now.
She settled into him as she sipped from her juice and Scott started the movie.
Allison jumped up from her spot beside Scott, his arm falling away from her waist as she moved across the room to the window. She was in the process of closing the curtains to block out the harsh sun when she stilled.
Her stance stiffened and she edged closer to the large window, her nose almost touching the glass. Scott frowned, watching her eyes stare into the distance. Her mouth fell open.
"Allison? What's wrong?''
Scott's question gained the attention of both Stiles and Lydia, and they sat forward in their seats. Allison turned, shock apparent on her face. She swallowed, a bubble of nervous laughter breaking free from her throat. She looked at her friend uneasily, discomfort and disbelief etched into her pretty features.
Lydia slowly stood from the couch, walking over to her friend feeling instantly worried and confused, "Allison?''
She joined her friend at the window, wondering what the hell she had seen. She looked out onto the courtyard the building overlooked, the usually busy campus now quiet and only littered with a few students. Classes were on and the sun had disappeared behind grey clouds, covering the pathways with shadows and the threat of rain.
Lydia spotted a figure moving quickly and purposely across the green People were moving out of the pathway as the boy hauled a heavy bag over his shoulder, pushing past them with a scowl. An extremely familiar scowl.
Lydia's breath was sucked from her lungs and her stomach dropped.
"Are you fucking kidding me?'', she cursed under her breath, feeling Allison's worried stare on her.
Stiles and Scott joined them, still confused and concerned over what was happening. They stood behind the two girls and Lydia felt Stiles's hand on her waist as he leaned over her shoulder, his eyes searching for some kind of clue.
"Lydia, what's going on?'', Scott asked from Allison's side, looking from one girl to another with an expectant gaze.
Lydia's hands went to her temples as she continued to stare out of the window with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Uh, it's my boyfriend'', she felt Stiles still behind her, his body tensing, "Jackson. It's Jackson''.
She turned to face her three friends, a tired and not at all happy smile twisting her lips. Lydia walked back over to the sofa, pulling on her shoes that she had only just slipped off. She looked longingly at the sofa, at the move that was still playing in the background, ignored and on mute.
"Jackson's here. On campus''.