"She was broken glass, but he still touched her,
Knowing he would get cut''.
Anger flooded her system, adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She was on fire, a tiny hurricane of rage as she barrelled out of the apartment and down the stairwell. Lydia took each step two at a time, her little body hurling through the air until she burst out of the front doors. She hadn't heard her friends yelling for her or their own footsteps pounding after her own. The girl hadn't felt Stiles catch her hand and she hadn't felt hers slip from his grasp.
She was confused, irritated, frustrated.
"Jackson?''
Lydia marched forward, leaving her friends at the doors as her hands curled into little fists. Her ponytail swished as she walked, glaring at any passer-by who dared to look at her. The boy in the distance had paused, glancing over his shoulder with a scowl.
"Jackson!'', Lydia called out to him again, her feet still slamming heavily onto the pavement. She came to a halt and she spread her arms out to her sides, looking at the boy in complete alarm - her whole body screamed, 'what the fuck?'.
Jackson, now recognising the long curls of strawberry blonde, turned on his heel and made his way back down the courtyard. His bag jostled on his back and he was frowning as he adjusted it, attempting to balance his cell and what looked like a campus map in both hands.
His girlfriend was now only a few feet in front of him, her usually perfect hair was swept into a messy ponytail, her jumper was too big and her skin was less tanned from the lack of Californian sun.
He didn't like it.
Jackson stood before her, dropping his bag at her feet and pretending that Allison and the two unknown boys behind Lydia, weren't actually there.
"What the hell are you doing here Jackson? Why-'', Lydia was quickly cut off, a campus map pushed into her face.
Jackson stabbed at the paper with an angry finger, his voice an irritable growl when he spoke.
"You told me you stayed in Butler Hall! This is the other end of campus, what are you doing here?'', Jackson demanded, his eyes finally settling on the two boys who stood beside a furious looking Allison.
"Who the hell are they?''
Stiles was already smirking as he wiggled his fingers at Jackson in a way that made Scott crack up. Ally slapped the both of the in the stomach, gesturing wildly at Lydia and Jackson who were staring each other down. Lydia was breathing heavily, her arms across her chest as she tried to contain the screams and tears she so desperately wanted to release. Seeing her boyfriend stand in front of her, three thousand miles from his own home, did not make her happy. They had talked only a few weeks ago about giving each other some space, some time to adjust to their new lives, new homes and schools.
Overwhelming panic drowned the girl, her head screaming at her and her chest fit to burst.
"Jackson, what are you doing here?'' Lydia repeated, her stare wide and still shocked as she looked up at the boy. The bag that sat at her feet suggested that whatever his reasoning for visiting, he was going to be here for at least a few days.
Lydia felt sick.
"Coming to see you, why else do you think I sat on a plane for seven hours?'' Jackson told her, his eyebrows raised as if it were obvious.
"Jackson, it's the middle of the week - semester only started three weeks ago! You can't just drop in on me like this!'' Lydia was exasperated and she was trying her best to keep her voice calm and her words fair.
"Well it's not like you're in class right now'', he glared over her shoulder at the two boys, "What were you doing?'' His voice held so much suspicion that it made Lydia's eyes water.
"Having a break with some friends - we were watching a movie Jackson, for god's sake'', she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
The boy stooped down to pick up his bag, throwing it bag over his shoulder. He stuffed his map into his pocket roughly, his eyes trained on Stiles and Scott the entire time.
"Well, introduce me to your new friends then'', he took Lydia's hand in his, gesturing for her to lead the way with a smile that screamed anything but friendliness.
The girl's heart was in her chest as she walked back over to the trio. She was embarrassed, agitated and completely at a loss. Allison was gazing at her sympathetically and Scott gave her a small smile - silently telling Lydia that it was okay.
She couldn't read Stiles. His expression was neutral and his golden eyes were trained on Jackson, watching the boy stalk across the courtyard with Lydia in tow.
It was almost silent as the couple stopped in front of them, the only sounds being music that came from an open window above them and the muted noise of traffic in the distance.
Lydia cleared her throat awkwardly, her hands playing with the edges of her sleeves. Stiles glanced at her, a pucker between his brow that told her he was on edge.
"Well, you know Allison'', she gestured lamely to the girl who arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow back at the boy. Jackson ignored her.
"This is Scott, Ally's-'', Lydia paused, looking at her friend for confirmation but Scott stepped in.
He offered a hand to Jackson as he finished Lydia's sentence with a polite smile, "Allison's boyfriend. Nice to meet you''.
Jackson gripped the boy's hand roughly, shaking it as he looked him up and down. When the boy was released from Jackson's grip, the brought his arm around Allison's waist, smiling when she squeezed him back. Her cheeks were pink.
"And this is Stiles'', Lydia told her boyfriend, willing herself not to blush, not to give anything away, "He's Scott's roommate-''
"And the guy you seem to be with every time I call'', Jackson interrupted her, glaring at the boy as he pulled himself to his full height.
Stiles smothered as laugh behind his fist as he did the same. The boy in front of him was muscular, stocky and wide. But he had at least a good seven inches on the guy. Stiles stood tall, smirking slightly as he too, held out his hand for Jackson to shake.
The boy didn't take it, instead sneering at Stiles with a look of contempt. Lydia felt her body heat up, her cheeks flushing with annoyance and embarrassment. She tugged her hands from Jackson's, looking at Stiles with an apology in her eyes. The boy simply shrugged letting his hand drop and keeping his confident smirk on his lips.
"I'm Lydia's partner for our Folklore and Mythology class'', Stiles explained helpfully, his gaze darting from the girl and back to her boyfriend, "We met on Lydia's first night here in the ba-''
Stiles bit his lip to cover his laughter as Lydia stepped out in front of Jackson, wide eyed and effectively cutting her friend off. Her boyfriend had frowned, the suspicion in his gaze only deepening as he took in Lydia's flushed appearance and the boy's smothered chuckle.
Lydia took hold of his arm, pulling him away from her friends and towards the park that separated her dorm from the boy's apartment. Her feet stumbled underneath her as Jackson held his weight, staring at Stiles with a look that both Lydia and Allison recognised.
"Look, man, I don't know what your deal is'', he pointed at Stiles' face, stepping closer as Stiles raised his eyebrows calmly, "But I don't like you near my girl''.
Stiles grinned sardonically, crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the way that Lydia was shaking her head at him next to Jackson.
"My deal? Sorry, I've said two sentences to you - I don't have a deal'', Stiles scrunched up his nose, talking to the boy as if he were a child - and angering him further as a result.
Scott placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder, attempting to ease off the tension before it rose further. Jackson sneered, wrenching his arm free of Lydia's hold and taking another step forward, poking his finger into Stiles' chest.
"I'm not stupid buddy, I know what's going on. You're the dude that's always with my girlfriend, in the library, at her dorm, at your place. I'm already sick of hearing your fucking name'', Jackson's eyes flashed dangerously, "Yeah, I know exactly what's going on''.
"Oh, you do?'', Stiles quirked a brow, smiling like a little shit, "Then please enlighten us, because you just interrupted the beginning of 'Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi', and I'm not too happy about that''.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your smart mouth now'', Jackson all but growled, brushing Lydia away as she tried to gain his attention, to lead him away to anywhere but there.
Stiles frowned as he watched Lydia stumble back, her brow furrowed and her eyes full of panic. She was worried, but she didn't look overly surprised at her boyfriend's behaviour.
"Jackson, please, can we just go?'', Lydia's pleas were ignored.
He shook his head and dipped it down, a little laugh playing from his lips. When he looked back up, it was with dark eyes and a twisted smirk that Scott cursed at. He grabbed for Stiles arm, only to be shrugged off and ignored.
"Oh yeah? Well, I know a few things too'', Stiles smirked, "If you know what's good for you, you'll listen to Lydia… or she's not going to be yours for much long-''
Lydia knew it was going to happen before it did, but she didn't have enough time to react before Jackson's fist sailed through the air and landed onto Stiles cheek with a crack.
Scott jumped out of the way, pushing Allison backwards and away from the uproar that he knew was about to unfold. Lydia had latched into Jackson's arm once more, pulling him back from Stiles with every piece of strength she possessed, she was yelling obscenities, her eyes wide and her gaze on Stiles.
The boy had been jerked backwards by the hit, the pain exploding through his face like a bullet shattering glass. He heard the sound of bone hitting bone, his eyes seeing stars that seemed to rain down on the campus. When he looked back up his irises were the colour of storm clouds. He grinned and felt his lip split, the taste of metal lining in his lips.
Stiles chuckled darkly as he brought his fingertips to his cheekbone, touching the skin gingerly. He shook his head at Jackson, acting as if he was scolding a small child.
"Yeah, you shouldn't have done that''.
"Stiles, no-!'' Scott called out, making a grab for his friend. The boy's shirt slipped out of his hold as he took one step towards Jackson and pulled his fist back. It crashed down onto Jackson's nose with one quick jab. Jackson was pure muscle and bulk, using his weight to deliver his strikes, but Stiles was lean and fast. Much faster than Lydia anticipated.
Blood was pouring from Jackson's nose and Stiles wiped the cut on his lip before rounding on him again. The two boy's squared off, hate radiating from both of them.
Allison was standing with her mouth agape, disbelief on her delicate features. Scott had managed to get himself between the two males, his hands on Stiles' shoulders as he spoke low and fast to him, trying to calm him down with no results. Jackson was leaning over the boy, still trying to grab hold of Stiles whilst he pushed Lydia away from him, ignoring her begging to 'stop, to just please stop'.
"Right, that's enough boys'', Isaac's soft English lilt suddenly filled the tense air and he wrapped his arm around Stiles' waist, lifting him up and hauling him away from Jackson.
Isaac's hands held him back but it was Lydia's face that made Stiles stay where he was. He tugged down his shirt that had rode up when Isaac had grabbed him, the taller boy pulling him out of the way easily. He hadn't had time to wonder where Isaac had appeared from but when he looked over at Scott, he realised that another boy had joined them, helping his friend hold an angry and bleeding Jackson.
Jackson shifted his weight, breaking free from the hold the two boys had on him. He grunted, wiping away the blood with the back of his hand, glaring at Stiles the whole time.
"Danny, let go for fuck's sake'', he snarled, ripping his arm away from the stranger.
Danny. The name registered with Stiles and when he watched the guy walk over to stand next to Allison he clicked. He was a friend of the girls, the boy he had been told about, the third figure in every photo in their dorm.
Stiles could already feel the bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, under his eye was swelling and the dull ache set in, making his jaw tight and his vision blurry. He was going to have one hell of a black eye.
Lydia was still clinging to Jackson's jacket, pulling at him, trying to make him move. She avoided eye contact with everyone but him, silently pleading with the boy to go with her. Finally, he relented.
Stiles spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth, watching in stony silence as Lydia walked away from him, trying her hardest to keep up with her boyfriend who was pacing furiously across the campus.
It was 11pm when there was a knock on the apartment door. It had been over ten hours since Stiles and watched Lydia walk away and he hadn't heard from her since. Allison had led him back into the apartment, her eyes soft with understanding as she told him she was going to get him cleaned up. Isaac, Scott and Danny had followed, the new boy being instantly welcomed with a bottle of cold beer.
They had all sat for hours, both the girl and Stiles constantly checking their phones for any word from Lydia, a text, a call - anything. Stiles had been told countless times to sit down, to take his jacket off - he wasn't going over there.
So he sat and waited anxiously, letting Allison clean up his lip and inspect his bruise with a sigh and a tut. And then he waited some more.
Isaac answered the door, carton of chinese food in his hand. His mouth dropped open slightly at the sight that greeted him and he turned back to the living room, only to find it empty. Danny had left hours ago, texting anxiously on his phone. Scott had managed to convince Allison to go out and grab some dinner, to give the girl a chance to clear her head, to stop her worrying.
So when Lydia stood in the apartment doorway, in nothing but a huge 'Princeton' sweatshirt and tiny cotton shorts, all Isaac could do was call for Stiles.
The boy appeared from the hallway, his hair mussed and his bruised face in full bloom, purples and blue framing his golden eyes. He looked half asleep, his shirt had been discarded and his bare chest had the faint lines from his pillow marked across it.
When he saw Lydia standing there, in some beat up sneakers and her face void of make up, he woke up quicker than he had ever before.
He stood there, utterly confused at the girls appearance so late at night and after what happened. He was sure she was angry at him and he found he was almost nervous under her gaze. He played with the drawstrings off his cotton sweatpants, watching her carefully.
When she crumbled under his stare, Stiles softened instantly, holding his hand out to her across the apartment. The girls eyes filled with tears and she walked in as Isaac closed the door quietly behind her. Lydia went straight to the boy, taking his hand and letting him lead her to his bedroom.
The door clicked softly behind them and all of a sudden, Lydia was hyper aware of the dim light, the bed that took up almost all of the space, Stiles bare chest. She was surrounded by his scent, the familiar notes of mint and something that was just so clean and fresh.
She shuffled awkwardly in the middle of his room, her sneakers tatty and almost falling off of her feet with their loose laces. Her jumper swamped her and she pulled at it's hem, trying to make it cover more of her legs.
Stiles walked around her, him too avoiding the bed and glancing at it warily. He swallowed heavily, leaning against his desk and looking at the girl before him. He waited patiently, willing her to speak, to talk, to say anything.
Her cheeks were still damp from her tears and her face glowed in the soft light, her long lashes creating shadows that fanned across her cheekbones. She bit down on her lip as she tried to keep her eyes on Stiles' face, but she faltered, her gaze dropping to take in the way his abdominal muscles tightened as he sat on the table, his biceps flexing as he crossed his arms. His sweats hung low on his hips, too low and her head spun with the conflicting emotions she felt.
"Uh, we broke up'', Lydia's voice was hoarse, as if she had been crying for a while, or yelling, Stiles thought bitterly.
She cleared her throat, looking around the room through the messy waves that fell into her face. She tucked a strand behind her ear, her cheeks turning pink as her eyes fell onto the unmade bed, "Well, I mean - I broke up with him''.
Stiles was almost frightened at how his stomach dropped and his heart soared at her words. For under a month he had known this girl - this fiery, goddamn gorgeous, little spitfire that made his dick hard and his cheeks hurt from grinning. But she had been untouchable, taken.
This, this news, this bomb she had just dropped, had changed everything and he wasn't sure what to do, what to say.
Lydia wrung her hands together, looking up at Stiles through her lashes. They stood in silence together and Stiles lips tried to form words but he was still shocked, still amazed.
"Say something, Stiles, please'', Lydia asked him, her voice soft and unsure.
"Uh, yeah - I mean, are you okay? Is everything okay?'' Stiles pushed off of the desk slowly, taking a few steps forward before stopping. He wanted to go to her but doubt filled his head. He was at such a loss.
Usually, when he had a girl in his room, her feet never touched the floor before they were in his bed. He was so unsure, so nervous around Lydia. His lips failed to smirk, to say something smart, to try and make her pout.
Lydia let out a deep sigh before nodding. Then she shrugged, a sad and unsure smile twisting at her lips. She dropped her hands to her side, the sleeves of her jumper making them disappear instantly.
"I don't know. I think so, or at least, things will be eventually'', she told him, "He was mad, really mad. That wasn't my intention - I didn't want to hurt anyone '', her eyes filled with fresh tears.
This piece of information made Stiles stand up straighter, his chest tighten. He looked her over, only the tracks of her tears marring her pretty face.
"He didn't-?''
Lydia shook her head, "No, he didn't touch me - he's not like that. He just yelled. A lot'', she blew out another breath, "And threw things - he broke my clock'', she frowned.
Stiles let out a relieved chuckle, "I'll buy you a new one''.
He offered her his hand once more, and he held his breath when he saw the girl hesitate. But she took it, her tiny fingers curling round this palm as he gently coaxed her to him.
Lydia went willingly, stepping closer to the boy and his bare chest. She bit down on her lip, hiding her pink cheeks behind her hair as she was pressed against his broad shoulders, his warm skin.
Stiles ran his hand down her back soothingly, giving her a hug for the very first time. It was almost monumental, the feel of her pressed up against him in something so innocent as a hug between friends. But their unconventional friendship had already resulted in them being in the shower together, crashing together half dressed and soaking wet.
The boy didn't know what he liked better.
Moments passed before he felt Lydia's lips move against his chest. They brushed over his skin as she spoke, her words barely a whisper before she lifted her head, looking at him worriedly.
"Are you okay?''
The boy nodded, swallowing heavily as Lydia took his hand and led him to his bed. His mind raced from zero to a hundred, the thoughts that flooded him were overwhelming as Lydia pushed him down to sit on the mattress. She knelt in front of him with a shadow of a smirk, almost like she knew what he was probably thinking.
"Get your mind out of the gutter Stilinski and let me see your face'', she snarked, her hand reaching out to cup his chin and effectively wiping the smirk off of his lips.
She turned his face to the light, moving and touching him so gently that Stiles was speechless. Her eyes were wide with worry as she looked over the bruise that had turned into a galaxy on his face, the hues of pink, blue and purple blossoming over his cheek and eyebrow.
Lydia's fingers traced over the swollen area with so much tenderness that Stiles forgot to breath. She was so close to him and he count count her tiny freckles that sprinkled over her nose, he could see his own awed reflection in her emerald eyes.
"I'm sorry'', Lydia murmured, her fingers still on his face, dropping almost on their own accord to his jawline. She followed the strong curve of it, watching how his Adam's apple bobbed before he spoke.
"You don't need to apologise, Lydia - I shouldn't have… I was out of line'', he grimaced, "I've been told that I can sometimes be quick to anger''.
Lydia laughed softly, raising her eyebrows as she settled between his parted legs, her body resting on her knees as she leaned into him, "Yeah? I didn't notice'', she quipped.
Stiles rolled his eyes before he became distracted, looking down at her from beneath his lashes. She was too fucking pretty, her lips her too goddamn full and Stiles knew she would look fucking wonderful underneath him. God, on top of him, bent over in front of him, in the shower, in the back of his Jeep…
"Stiles?''
Lydia's amused voice pulled the boy from his sordid imagination and he could feel his neck warming under her curious stare. He coughed nervously.
"Yeah?''
"I said, do you often find yourself in a fist fight before two on a Wednesday afternoon?'', Lydia raised her eyebrows at him, her lips lifting slightly as she looked up at him.
Stiles let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to rid himself of his thought and the intense heat that had flooded his body.
"Uh, no - I can't say it's a habit of mine''.
"Good, keep it that way'', Lydia told him firmly. She rose to her feet, her eyes downcast and looking down at the boy almost shyly. It was like they were back to square one all over again - she would forget about about all of their arguments, how he would wind her up something terrible - because suddenly, he was a gorgeous, half dressed boy in front of her.
He gave her whiplash and she never knew what way was up with Stiles - as every day ended and a new one began, she found herself loving it. He brought playfulness to her life. He was sharp and quick; a boy with messy hair who was full of dirty words and filthier smirks. He had became a necessity to her.
Whatever she was feeling must have shown on her face because when Stiles looked up at her, it was with sparkling eyes and the ghost of a smirk. As she blushed, his lips stretched into a grin and he leaned back onto his hands, making his stomach tighten under her gaze.
He reached out to take her fingers in his hold, his rough touch playing with them in his palm.
"Kitten?''
"Hmm?'', Lydia couldn't speak, she couldn't think, she couldn't breath.
"Do I make you nervous?''
Before she had a chance to reply, Stiles tugged her forward, her knees bumping into the mattress clumsily and sending her falling down onto it. Lydia landed between Stiles' spread legs, their faces far too close and their lips sharing the same air.
Their joint hands lay between them in the small space that kept them separate. Stiles watched in fascination as her eyes darkened, her lips fell open and her hair tangled around her face like a waterfall of fucking fire. He was a goner, this girl sent him soaring with a smile and could bring him back down to his knees with a flash of her legs in those goddamn jumpers.
He turned into the worlds biggest hypocrite as his heart slammed into his ribcage, his breath faltering in his throat and dying on his lips. His eyes roamed across her face without any shame, drinking in each tiny detail that he had come to know so well. Except those lips. Those fucking lips that haunted him every goddamn night.
He didn't know how they tasted, how they felt between his own. How good it would feel to bite down on her full, bottom one - how they would look moaning his name.
His breath came out ragged as he finally spoke, repeating his initial question in a low, gravelly voice. He leaned back on his hands again, taking in the sight of her between his legs. It was too warm in his room, there wasn't enough oxygen to breath.
"Do I make you nervous?''
Lydia glanced at him, meeting his hooded eyes with her own. The blush he loved so much rose to her cheeks, making her look too good to be real. Stiles could have sworn that shit like that only happened in bad romance novels, in trashy erotic that chicks loved. She was a walking wet dream.
Lydia nodded, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes dropping from his gaze to his lips, scanning over his bruise, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw.
If Lydia had exhaled at the wrong time, she wouldn't have heard his next question - he was so quiet.
"Why?''
"Because you make me want things I don't think I'm ready for'', Lydia whispered, her eyes trained on his lips and adoring the way they fell into a pout when he was listening to her, "I've just broken up with my boyfriend of three years and all I can think about is you. But I just need you to be my friend right now. I know that's unfair''.
She bit her lip, watching as Stiles' mouth fell into an 'o'. Lydia let out an almost embarrassed smile, her fingers playing with the loose threads on his quilt. She froze when his rough palm came into contact with her bare leg, his fingers brushing the hem of her shorts.
She glanced up at him, her skin too hot underneath her clothes, underneath his touch.
Stiles swallowed heavily, trying his best to refrain from moving his hand any further. He knew how small her shorts were, he knew it wouldn't take much for him to seek out the lace she wore underneath, how warm she would be between her thighs .
He swore quietly, slowly dragging his hand back to her knee where he rubbed soft circles.
"I get it, Kitten'', he looked at her with a mix of emotions that she couldn't quite decipher, "You know I'm your friend''.
Stiles returned the soft smile Lydia gave him, his hand moving from her leg to the safety of her sweater covered arm. He rubbed long strokes up and down, an action that made Lydia instantly relaxed. He paused, letting one of her curls tangle around his finger.
"I'll be whatever you need me to be''.
