And here's chapter 2! Just fulfilling all of my fluff needs tbh.
Lydia closed her eyes, and focused on the silk curtain running through her fingers like water. The emerald material was definitely once high quality, but dust had settled into its fibers and made the fabric grimy and rough. She felt a thread pull and looked down to see that the edge of her pink nail had caught on a loose thread and was slowly unraveling it. By pulling on the thread, the rest of the curtain bunched up strangely; the dark green valleys formed by the poor lighting in the room almost created the image of a screaming face.
"Interesting…" Lydia murmured, holding the cloth closer to her face for better inspection.
"What's interesting?" Stiles yelled, bounding to her side in a second and almost crashing into her shoulder.
"The fact that we still haven't found anything in this damn house despite hours of searching and staring at mundane household objects." Lydia turned sharply to stare at Stiles, recoiling slightly when she realized how close his face was to hers. She pushed the curtain to his chest. "It's like there's nothing supernatural about this place at all. How weird."
Stiles gave her a flat look, his eyebrows drawing together in frustration. "Hey, just last week you were saying how I'm always right and there was probably something out there in the woods."
Letting out an angry huff, Lydia crossed her arms across her chest and flipped her hair out of her face. "Don't start using my words against me, Stiles Stilinski. What I meant was that sure, something is probably coming and you sense it. But I really don't think we're going to find a were-tiger," She picked up a teapot from a rickety wooden table covered in dust. "Or an evil genie in a cursed teap-" She dropped the pot with a shout and cradled her hand to her chest, watching as blood dripped from her palm.
Stiles hurried over to her in two long strides, his brown eyes wide in shock and concern. "Lydia, shit!" He enveloped her small hand with his long fingers and opened her palm to him. "How the hell did that happen?"
Lydia let out a shaky laugh. "It was probably that evil genie."
Stiles' lips quirked up in a crooked smile only to quickly drop again at the sight of flashing lights outside. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Lydia froze, her green eyes widening in horror and her hand rigid in Stiles' grip. "Is that the police? What the hell are the police doing here?"
Stiles just stared back in equal amounts of shock and fear before he shook his head and ran up the grubby spiral staircase, pulling Lydia with him. Slipping on the top step, he turned around to glare at the offending object and pulled Lydia into the closest bedroom. Spotting a closet, he sprinted for the door, urged her in first and then backed in while quietly shutting the door.
Feeling her elbow jammed into his lower back, Stiles cautiously turned his body so that he was facing Lydia. His chest heaved as he tried to get his breathing under control, and he could feel Lydia's arms brushing up against his own with each gasp she took.
"Stiles," Lydia said breathlessly, her whisper sounding hoarse and strained. "Why in the hell are the police here?"
"Well," Stiles tried to scratch at his face, but quickly stopped when he felt his hand bump into Lydia's hipbone. "I guess it's because I heard my dad and his deputies talking about recent activity here over the radio."
"And when did you hear this information?" Lydia's eyes were bottle green in this dim light.
He guiltily shifted his eyes away from her angry gaze. "Uh, about three hours ago…probably."
"Or fifteen minutes before you called me saying that you definitely found something creepy that we had to check out?"
"Yeah, that's a good way to describe it too." Stiles looked down at his hand, feeling something wet dripping down his fingers. Careful to avoid accidentally running his hand up Lydia's side, he brought his hand inches from his face to better inspect it. He watched as a drop of blood reversed its path from the tip of his finger back down to the knuckle. "Shit, Lydia! You're still bleeding."
"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to bleed all over you." Lydia looked around for something to wipe his hand with. "Hold on, let me find something…" She looked behind her for any type of cloth, but found nothing. "Wish we still had that dirty ass curtain."
"Lyds, stop moving for a second," Stiles whispered, his body looming over hers as he straightened his body to try and take off his jacket. He managed to slip his jacket and flannel shirt off, leaving him in a dark grey t-shirt. Taking the sleeve of his plaid shirt between his teeth, he pulled on the cuff until there was a tearing sound. "Let me see your hand."
"Stiles, wait. You don't have to mess up one of your shirts just for a little cut." Lydia held her bloody hand to chest, refusing to let him wrap it.
"Too late for that now," His mouth pulled into a crooked grin. "Don't act like you're sad that I ruined my shirt. I know you hate plaid."
Lydia offered him a close-mouthed smile. "Okay, that's true, but I wouldn't ever want you to purposely mess up your shirts because of me."
"It's fine, Lyds," Stiles gently grabbed her hand and wiped at the wound with his sleeve. "Besides, this is a lot deeper than just a cut. That genie really hated you."
"There was a jagged piece on the handle." Lydia watched as his fingers ghosted over her palm, skirting around her injury. Her lips pulled up into a smile as she observed his ministrations. The way his fingers were gently splayed around her wrist and the bright red of her blood reminded her of another time in which he grasped her hands in his, crimson string tying them together. "Stiles…"
He looked up from his task of wrapping a strip of his shirt around her hand, whiskey eyes gentle and warm. "What's up, Lyds?"
Her breath hitched as his eyes met hers and she felt a heavy weight pressing onto her chest, keeping her fixed to that spot. The openness of his gaze made her feel as if through his sincerity he could see through her into her very being, see the way he made her heart beat faster, her mind race, and her skin pulse with electricity. "Stiles…" She began again, pressing her lips tightly together. She let out a deep breath and shook her head slightly. "Thanks."
His eyes narrowed for a second, his mouth drawn in concern, before he let out a breath through his nose. "Anything for you, Lydia."
They sat there in silence for a few moments, his fingers mindlessly skating over her wrist and the back of her hand. "I don't think they're coming in." He angled his body towards the doorknob and slowly cracked the door open. "I don't see any police lights." He opened the door all the way and took a step out.
Lydia felt cold air envelop her as soon as he did and she squared her shoulders in an attempt to keep any of the warmth she had just felt.
"We should probably get out of here just in case they come back." Stiles said from across the room, his breath causing condensation to form on the window. "And I should get you an actual bandage for that hand." He offered her his hand and when she placed her uninjured hand in his palm, he immediately closed his long fingers around hers in a gentle grip.
Lydia couldn't figure out if the warmth seeping into her bones was merely from the body heat from his hand or if it was something more, something electric jolting her body with tiny bursts of light. Either way, she was nervous for all the possibilities of the future.