So I was feeling a little inspired. I hope this doesn't break your hearts. There will be a resolution, but this needed to happen before all of that. Besides, if you've seen the 11th episode of season three, I don't think I could make you more sad than Jeff made us with what happened. Being vague to avoid spoilers is HARD!

This one is for Invisibleme1324. You got in first and you left such a sweet message, so here's some love :) x. Also, I want to say thank you to Iwannabelikeme who wished me luck with Uni/College. I'll need it.

So I recently learned I could reply to you guys (I know, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. The other day my friend told me she was going to Grease and I told her to have a good flight. She meant the musical, obviously.) I was wondering if you'd like me to do this. I chat to some of my favourite authors, so if you guys want that, just leave it in your review or PM me. I'm friendly, I promise, and I love making new friends, especially if they share my enthusiasm (read fanatical obsession) for Dylan O'Brien.

My last thing is that I'm considering running a competition for this story. I'm not sure what I'm going to get you guys to do yet, but I'm considering offering either a short preview of the later chapters or a request for a personal story/oneshot of your choosing which will be posted for you to read. Let me know if you're interested in this and I'll sort it out, cause I'd love to get you guys involved :)

*** Update on the competition- info for it is now on my profile page.

That's it from me. Love you guys and I'll write soon.

xxxxx

IX

Blindfold Untied

"Lydia kissed me," Stiles said. He and Scott had been playing video games all day long, and they were taking a much needed break and grabbing some pizza in town. Scott choked on his soda and Stiles slapped him on the back as he coughed.

"Seriously? When did this happen?" Scott asked, looking both shocked and delighted.

"Yes, seriously. Am I that un-kissable, Scott?" Stiles snarked, still keeping one detail from him.

"Of course not, Stiles," Scott said. Stiles snickered. "Not that I'm interested or the best person to ask. I just never expected her to make the first move," Scott cleared up his statement, smiling at his best friend.

"Well, it was on the cheek. But she did it twice. At Greenburg's party," Stiles told Scott. Scott's eyes widened and then he punched his friend on the shoulder.

"You asshole. I nearly choked for a kiss on the cheek!"

"Two," Stiles corrected. "And they were that lingering kind that Allison does when she wants to get you into bed." Stiles had wanted so badly to take advantage of the moment he and Lydia had alone. Her lips had been pink and slightly chapped from the dry winter air, and her long red hair had been straightened out just waiting for him to run his hand through it. But he didn't know if she was completely over Jackson yet (despite her joke about it) and he was awkward and she was breathtaking.

"So you're telling me that you disappeared with an absolutely gorgeous girl who gave you an 'I want to be ravished' kiss and you did nothing about it? Dude you are so stupid," Scott surmised, snorting.

"I'm not saying I didn't want to kiss her. I just... I'm not sure where her head is. I love her, man," Stiles said. Scott's eyes widened. A dopey smile appeared on his face, and Stiles knew he was going to be suffering from that confession for a while.

"Really? Even after finding out all the gory details? And knowing how much of a control freak she is?"

Stiles smiled and said, "yeah. I like that she takes charge. I find it so sexy. Especially when she gets that crinkle between-"

"Okay, I really don't need to hear about Lydia's bits and pieces," Scott cut him off.

"I was going to say eyes, dumbass," Stiles said. "Honestly, if she allowed me to see her 'bits and pieces' I would so not have been playing COD with you today."

"Okay, way too much info dude," Scott laughed, and elbowed Stiles. Stiles just picked up a slice of pizza and started eating again and the conversation moved to more trivial topics.

Stiles was running, his long legs a blur and his feet pounding against the pavement in a strong tempo. He had been particularly jittery over the past few days and there was only so much that Adderall could do when his emotional state was involved. After New Years he had kept quiet about the kiss, and both he and Lydia had been busy with other things and hadn't really had time to talk. So, after Stiles told Scott how he felt about Lydia he had been itching with frustration because he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Lydia herself. On one hand, he knew that the adoration he had developed for her as a child had become this full-on, ginormous love that he felt today. On the other... he couldn't think of a negative for her.

She warmed his heart every time he looked at her. She lit him up like a flame on a candle. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, either- although it helped. Lydia was a bitch to a lot of people, but when she let someone in she protected them as fiercely as a mother wolf protecting her cubs. If you were special to Lydia, she would fight for you. Stiles had seen first hand how she cared for him. Her compassion around Thanksgiving had astounded him and filled part of the empty space left behind when his mother had left. She always looked and smelled incredible, too. Stiles had done some snooping around, and she wore something designer that came in a bottle shaped like an apple and smelled sweet. He couldn't get enough. Whenever she leant into him or gave him a hug his shirts always smelled like her, and he refused to wash them until the smell was gone. He knew he seemed crazy. But he loved her. For all the good and bad in her.

Stiles slowed to a walk for the last 500 meters and then entered his house.

"Dad, I'm home," he called.

"I'm in the kitchen, Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski's muffled voice echoed down the hall to Stiles. He found his father at the kitchen counter with a few police files and his computer, obviously finishing off some reports at home.

"Hey, Dad."

"How are you doing, Stiles? Good run?" Sheriff Stilinski asked his son, folding the top of his computer screen down a ways.

"Not bad. Just thinking, I guess. How was work?"

"Busy, as usual. I'm almost done with these reports, so how about you and I go out for dinner? We haven't had Indian in a while, and I've been craving some beef Korma." Stiles smiled and nodded.

"Let me take a quick shower first," he said, turning around.

"Oh, and son? Don't think too hard about her. She might surprise you," the Sheriff said, smiling at his son's surprised look and quickly adjusting his computer screen to concentrate on his work again. Stiles shook his head and quickly climbed the stairs, eager to have a shower and get to the promised food.

Stiles was lying on his back beside Lydia on her king-size bed. They had been studying, but they were taking a much deserved break. Lydia's mom had cooked them a light dinner, and now Lydia was online and Stiles was watching her and listening to the music that was tinkling quietly from the speakers in the corner of the room. They'd been at it for about half an hour when Lydia closed the lid of her MacBook with a sigh and sat up facing Stiles, crossing her legs. She had a nervous look to her face and she was biting the inside of her left cheek; Stiles had noticed this was the closest to an imperfect habit that she had.

"What's up?" he asked, curious.

"I have to tell you something. And I'm not sure if you're going to like it," Lydia said, her eyes not meeting his. Stiles was wary, now. Lydia was serious by nature, but never really expressed her concern unless something particularly bad was going to happen.

"Okay. Shoot," even Stiles noted the tremor in his voice. Lydia's eyes finally met his.

"Are you still a virgin?" she said.

"That's a question, not a statement Lydia. How imprecise of you," Stiles replied, trying to lighten the mood and avoid the question. Lydia didn't let him get away with it.

"That's avoidance, not an answer Stilinski. Just answer the question."

"Yes, okay? Yes, I'm still a virgin. When would I ever have time to have sex with anyone. I'm always with you," Stiles said, his cheeks flushing.

"Okay, and there's nothing wrong with that. But how far have you been with a girl?" Lydia's eyes hadn't moved from his face.

"Someone's inquisitive today."

"Please, Stiles. I promise it's germane to the discussion," Lydia looked earnest now. Stiles had only seen this look on her face once before- the night she had come to him for help with Jackson. It was just as painful now.

"Well, I touched a breast last year. And, jeez, those things are heavy. I have no idea how you lot don't have back problems. But that's it," Stiles finally met Lydia's eyes again. There was warmth there. And something that looked a lot like... well... he didn't want to jinx it.

"Best kiss you ever had?" Green and brown were still mixing.

"This is going to sound so stupid." Stiles was embarrassed by this answer.

"Stiles, I trust you. So, can you trust me?" Yes.

"My first kiss," Stiles confessed, reluctantly. "I don't even know who the girl was. It was in this stupid game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. I was fourteen, and she had never kissed anyone either, so we just kind of went for it. We both had the sense to keep our tongues out of it, but she was an amazing kisser," Stiles knew his eyes had glazed over slightly with the memory. As he came back to focus, Lydia's eyes were shining.

"Really?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Well, yeah. She was a good hugger too. Short, though. I wouldn't say much shorter than you-" Stiles was cut off as Lydia's lips pressed into his. His eyes widened in shock, but he quickly shut them and kissed her back with everything he had. His arms closed around her waist, and then he knew. He slipped back to that night. The girl he had kissed in the closet in his geeky adolescent innocence. Her smell, her height, her kiss. As their lips languidly stroked together, Lydia's arms came around Stiles' neck, just like they had that night. Stiles was the one to pull back, though.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he rasped, his lips wet with spit and swollen from their kiss. His mind was reeling.

"Yes," Lydia confirmed in a small voice. "I've wanted to tell you for a while now. But every time I tried you always said something to distract me. And I thought you'd be mad."

"Mad? Are you insane? I was in love with you back then! I never thought I'd find the girl that night. I kept waiting for someone to come and tell me it was them. For the first time in six years I liked someone who I thought wasn't Lydia Martin! I liked that girl. She was quiet and vulnerable and kind," Stiles couldn't stop the words he'd always wanted to say to her pouring out of his mouth. "But now I know? Lydia, you're not perfect. But your imperfections are what make you who you are. And I like you more for this." Stiles tried to kiss her again, but Lydia was shaking her head.

"Stiles. I-" she started. "We can't do this."

"Why not? What about that kiss?" Stiles retorted, confused and more than a little hurt.

"It didn't mean anything."

"A kiss always means something. Why would you do it if you didn't mean it?"

"Because I care about you. And the last person I cared about turned homicidal when I lied to him. I don't want this friendship to end that way," Lydia whispered.

"It won't. Are you kidding me? No! If anything, we'll just be stronger," Stiles tried to convince her, running a hand soothingly between her shoulder blades. Lydia pulled away and stood up.

"I can't risk that happening to you. We are such good friends. Can't we just be in each other's lives like this?" Lydia had her arms wrapped around her body. There was a smudge of lipgloss on her Cupid's bow and she wiped it away as if she were embarrassed.

"Why are you fighting this?" Stiles was angry now.

"Because it would change everything. What if we get together and then break up again? Or what if we have a fight? Look what happens to our best friends over something as simple as sex! We can just avoid all of that. Why can't you see that this is a bad idea?"

"Because I know I'm meant to be with you. Look at the history we have together. Even when you pretended to ignore me I was there. There is no way that us having our first kiss together isn't fate."

"There's no such thing as fate," Lydia denied, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.

"We're going to keep going in circles about this for the rest of our lives."

"You wish, Stillinski."

"No, I know. I've always known. When we were little I knew I cared about you. But you were never willing to listen until now. And then I pour my heart out to you and you tell me to leave? Come on, Lydia. We've spent months darting around each other. There were so many times when all I wanted was to kiss you," Stiles was angry, now and yelling.

"Then why didn't you?" Lydia shrieked. She had tears in her eyes.

"Because maybe I wanted more than just a kiss," Stiles said, not daring to say the three words he most wanted to say.

"Well, I can't give you that. Not now," Lydia whispered, turning away from him. Stiles took several tentative steps towards her, fully intending to turn her around and convince her that it would be worth the risk. His hand was inches from her shoulder.

"Just go, Stiles," Lydia sounded broken. "Please?" Stiles' fingers flexed, and then fell. He turned around and picked up his back pack. He opened the door to Lydia's bedroom and walked down the stairs then exited the house. As he unlocked the driver's side door, Stiles reached up and scrubbed the unshed tears from his eyes. It was the 11th of January.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! You'll forgive me once you read the next two chapters though, I promise.