"Fuck" Stiles exclaimed rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Lydia's shaking frame. "God I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
She stayed silent, head cradled against his collar bone, tears leaving damp splotches in his sweater vest.
Shit.
How the hell had he not made that connection. It wasn't like Hale was the most common last name in the world. It wasn't like, Smith, or Brown or Adams or anything, there was something wrong with him.
"God, Lyds I'm so sorry." He said running his hand in comforting circles over her back. She shuddered under his touch and he felt his heart breaking.
"I thought I left him behind." She mumbled against his shirt. "I thought he was gone, I thought I would never have to see him again after we left."
Stiles took in a deep breath, "god, sweetheart I'm sorry." He said stroking her hair softly, "I'm not going to let him hurt you again." He reassured "I swear I'm never going to let him touch you."
Lydia pulled back, wiping away her tears, eyes pink and puffy, tear tracks streaked down her face. "I hate him. "She said and Stiles nodded knowingly, running a thumb over her wetted cheeks.
"I swear ill kick his ass if he comes anywhere near you" he said smiling
Lydia laughed, it was forced and it sounded a bit fake but Stiles was going to count his blessings. "Yeah all 158 pounds of you."
Stiles laughed, "I'll have you know that I can kick some major ass thank you very much." He said flexing his muscles and waggling his eyebrows.
Lydia swatted at his chest with a laugh, "come on idiot lets go home." She said grabbing her purse and leading out the door.
Stiles laid in his bed that night, fretting over how he hadn't figured it out. It was just, Derek wasn't like peter. Stiles had met peter briefly when he had picked Lydia up that night… he was. Peter was a total asshole. He was glued to his phone, he fidgeted, he insulted Lydia's outfit and in the five minutes that Stiles spent with him he already wanted to punch the man in the face.
Derek wasn't like that. He wasn't anything like peter had been apart from their apparent love of leather. Derek; Derek was smart, and oddly funny and he stared at Stiles like the words that came from his lips were the secrets of life. He joked, and laughed sarcastically and said please and thank you and was somehow shy and extroverted at the same time. Dear god he was nothing at all like peter.
Stiles brain ran rampart with thoughts late into the night, red light reflecting the time in his eyes. Midnight faded to four am faster than he expected and before he knew it he was yawning and pushing himself out of bed to get ready for school.
He shouldn't be thinking these things, he told himself on the way into school. He shouldn't be wondering what Derek looks like in the morning. Eyes heavy with sleep. He shouldn't be cataloging the color of his eyes, green but ever-changing switching between pale and emerald in a second but still retaining their beautiful sparkle, he really shouldn't.
Fuck
He was so screwed.