There are no words to describe how much I hate work right now and how tired I am. Or how long it took me to get these damn words onto a document.
Here's a thousand or so words to let you know how stupid these two idiots are. Enjoy, I hope.
Lydia was still crying when Allison barged into her room, her arms instantly going round her best friend's trembling body. The girls sunk down onto Lydia's, messy, unmade bed together as Allison rocked the strawberry blonde slowly, her lips making soothing noises as she held her.
It took Lydia almost twenty minutes before her sobs slowed to hiccups, and by that point, Allison was lying behind her on the mess of pillows, her arms curled around the girls tummy and her forehead leaning against her shoulder. Allison waited patiently, feeling Lydia finally stop trembling before she asked softly, "What happened?''
"He left'', Lydia's voice was hollow and her words cut her own throat like a knife. She was in pain, the ache in her chest screamed at her and her watery eyes stung.
Allison was silent, sensing that the girl wasn't done explaining; instead, she rubbed a soothing palm down Lydia's arm - frowning at how cold her skin felt.
"He left because he told me he loved me'', she choked back a sob that had risen from her chest, "And I'm so fucking damaged, I couldn't even say it back''. A cry broke from her lips that she couldn't help any longer. She embraced the tears as Allison did the same to her; her friend gathering her by the shoulders and hauling Lydia into her chest. The girls swayed together as Lydia cried and the huntress smoothed back her friend's tangled curls.
It seemed like an hour had passed when Allison spoke sleepily into Lydia's hair, her voice only a murmur.
"You're not damaged - you know that right?''
Lydia broke from her daze, her puffy eyes staring at the slow moving hands of the clock. She turned to face the girl, her voice hoarse and scratchy when she asked, "what?''.
Allison smiled sadly, flicking Lydia on the nose in the hopes that she would smile. She didn't. The girl sighed and explained.
"Lydia, you're not damaged. You're one of the strongest, bravest people I know. And I know a few werewolves very well'', Allison raised her eyebrows smugly to prove her point. Lydia merely rolled her eyes in response, flopping back into the pillows as her friend continued.
"You didn't say the words because you've spent years protecting yourself from them. Shitty things have happened to you, and you've been hurt by people you love'', Allison's voice turned soft and understanding filled her words, "And that's okay, you know? It doesn't make you weak. You're allowed to protect yourself - God knows we all need to''.
Allison tugged one of Lydia's curls playfully until the banshee turned to look at her with a sad frown on her face. "You love him, don't you?''
Lydia didn't hesitate when she nodded, another rogue tear streaking across her cheek. Her eyes stung and her throat closed up as she remembered how Stiles had looked as he walked away from her, as he had told her how he loved her - and she had sat in silence.
Lydia swore aloud and sat up, her heart throbbing in her chest as Allison watched her suddenly wild movements with curiosity.
She paced the floor of her bedroom, her hands grabbing at her hair in a very Stiles like manner. This didn't go unnoticed by the brunette, who was now leaning up on her elbows, watching her friend with a knowing smile on her lips.
Lydia halted suddenly, turning to Allison with her arms outstretched.
"I love him'', her voice was almost shrill as she spoke the words aloud for the first time, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at her friend - as if she was daring her to disagree.
"I know you do, Lyds…''
"I love him. I love Stiles'', Lydia brought her hands to her face as she tried to cover the ear splitting grin that erupted across her lips. Allison, however, saw this and grinned too - a chuckle escaping as her friend blushed a brilliant pink hue.
"So, how can you say this to me, but not him?''
—
"Okay, buddy - I think you've had enough'', Derek grabbed the almost empty bottle of whiskey from Stiles' slack hands. The boy grunted in protest, making a grab for the Jack as he sat up. Derek's apartment swayed and titled in front of him and he groaned - hardly noticing as Isaac gently pushed him back into the sofa.
Scott sighed in sympathy for his best friend. Derek smirked at the human's inability to remain sober.
Stiles had called Scott as he was throwing his jeep into reverse and peeling away from Lydia's drive.
His words were harsh and broken, the hand holding his cell a loft shook with hurt and frustration. He was done - he couldn't continue walking away from the girl that kept pulling him back to confusion and hurt.
"Scott, I need a drink-''
"Dude, are you okay? You sound like-''
"I need a drink, okay? Are you going to be there to make sure I don't get shitfaced and fall off a cliff or something?''
Scott sighed heavily down the phone, the line crackling, "Stiles, what happened?'' His voice was gentle and his words held knowledge. He knew that his friend had visited Lydia.
Stiles swallowed heavily, his chest burning as the speed of the jeep increased. He was silent for a few seconds before he grunted back at Scott, "Bro, just meet me at Derek's okay?''
"I'll be there in ten''.
Scott slumped down beside his friend, watching as Stiles eyes stared straight ahead and out the window. Neither boy said anything and the silence was only broken when Isaac sat opposite them, sighing heavily.
There was nothing either of his three friends could say - no boyishly stupid advice or words of wisdom would help Stiles. He was drunk, he was tired and he was still confused about the strawberry blonde he'd left naked in bed.
He closed his eyes and groaned at the image, the whiskey making his head throb and his throat burn.
The night stretched on into the early hours of the morning and it was only when the sky outside turned red and purple that Stiles spoke.
His eyes were as pink as the sunrise and heavy with sleep and alcohol. He cleared his dry throat and murmured to anyone who was still awake.
"I don't get a happy ever after, we don't live in a fairytale, do we?'' His words mirrored Lydia's and his chest felt dull and empty as Stiles spoke into the empty whiskey bottle.
"Nope'', he grunted, popping the 'P' with fake enthusiasm, "we live in a world with werewolves and demons and monsters that take everything away from us''.
Scott sat across from his friend in the shadows, the sun still hiding from behind the indigo clouds. He watched his best friend with sad eyes and he couldn't find his own voice as he listened to Stiles' words. The boy moved across the room to take the bottle away from Stiles when he tried to lift it to his lips once more, ignoring the fact that it was empty and had been for a while.
The alpha gently prised it from his grip before setting it on the table. When he turned back to face the boy, Stiles' once unfocused gaze was set on him, his voice was low and serious when he spoke.
"Scott, all the monsters and bad guys took Lydia away from me''.
Scott shook his head sadly, his words of comfort and protest ready to fall from his lips, but, Stiles nodded solemnly.
"I can't have her Scott''.
And then, Stiles passed out.