Title: Do you remember?
Rated: T
Characters: Stiles/Lydia
Summary: Remember the time I dragged you to the beach, and you said it would rain, and it did? I thought you'd say "I told you so," but you didn't. - Six chapters of one shots. Stydia.
Do you remember?
Do you remember the time I flirted with all the guys to make you jealous and you were?
I thought you'd leave me, but you didn't.
Even though I love you with all my being, you can be such an insufferable jerk. It's Friday night, the night of Allison and Scott's engagement party and you still aren't dressed. You're sitting on the sofa, tinkering with a part of your stupid jeep. I stand a few feet in front of you, wearing my best annoyed face. "I'm not going while we're in the middle of a fight." you tell me, but you don't look at me, just keep on twiddling and tweaking. It takes every inch of self control I have to restrain from whipping off my manolo heel and throwing it at your head but I fight the urge. A trip to A+E was not on the schedule for tonight. I remember the anger I felt, but I know I could never hold it against you. I rest my hands on my hips and fix you with my best death glare. "Fine." I finally say, smoothing out the creases at the bottom of my red dress. "I'll go alone." And I do.
It doesn't take too long to get to the venue. The whole town is there, it seems, ready to celebrate the good news. Everyone but you. It looks beautiful and I wish you were there with me. There's flowers everywhere, my favourite. It reminds me of how you used to buy me a bunch every Sunday. I can hear your voice in the back of my mind. "One day, I'll ask you to marry me."
I smile.
After a few hours of mingling, singing and dancing with the townies, I find myself looking around the room for you. I half expect you to burst through the doors, demanding you get to throw Scott his 'Damned bachelor party' swinging your keys around your pinky finger, but you never do. I check my phone a billion times a minute, just expecting for you to have called, but you haven't. I love you, but you're stubborn.
"Lydia!" Scott's voice breaks through the music and I turn, hoping in vain that it's you. "Where's Stiles?" I'm asking myself the same question, Stiles. Where are you?
I shrug and say "he's just gone for a little walk." I don't want him to know that you haven't showed up to your own best friends engagement party.
Scott looks disappointed. He knows. Stiles, where are you?
"Lydia?" This time I know it's you and my stomach is instantaneously filled with millions of tiny butterflies. I am 100% sure that my heart has just swelled four times its size. I turn and there you are, looking as though you've stepped out of a men's magazine; incredibly handsome in your black suit. You turn to your friend and offer him a small smile. "Congratulations, Scotty."
"I thought you weren't coming." I say as you lead me to the chocolate fountain; they're your favorite and I can see a flicker of a smile. I want to kiss you, so much. Then I smell it. You're drunk. I remember feeling my heart sink. Before you can defend yourself, I turn on my heel and make a beeline for the bar. I ask for the strongest drink the bartender has and making sure to catch your eye across the crowd, I down it in one and promptly order another one. I do this until I can't see you clearly anymore. I'm not a big drinker, you know this. Your head drops; you're embarrassed.
I know you hate it when I dance with anyone that's not you so I take to the dance floor next. I spot you slouching in the corner, Liam and Mason attempting to ply you with water- even they can see that you're inebriated- but you're pushing them away. I know that mountain dew and root beer are your hangover remedies.
Everyone around me is smiling and happy, celebrating our friends engagement. I want that. I want you. I sidle up next to the twins, remembering how you never really liked them and grasp Aiden's arm. "Hey Aiden." I smile, fluttering my lashes. I edge closer. Even from across the room I can feel your rage; you're burning holes in my back. "Dance with me." It's not a question, it's an order and you know it. Aiden, of course, is all too willing to obey me. We begin to dance.
You're not quite at breaking point yet. I can still get a rise out of you.
Jackson is next.
I know that what I'm doing is wrong but I can never control myself when it comes to you. I maintain eye contact with you, daring you to come and claim me as your own. I really wish it were your arms around me right about now. Once the dance is over, I see your face muscles relax. You must've been showing some real restraint not to knock Jackson out cold. I spot a group of old school friends behind you and make my way towards them. You stand up straighter, fixing your tie, as though I'm about to fall into your arms. My heart sinks as I walk straight past you. I remember feeling sick.
Someone drops their plastic cup on the floor. My heel pierces through it, rendering me unstable in my 6 inch shoes. I flail, a feeling of pure dread filling me as I fall. Then arms are encircling me. Dread is replaced with relief and Drunkeness is swiftly replaced with a sober thought as I look up at you: You've got me. Just like you always have, just like you always will.
I remember wanting to hurt you. But it all seems so trivial now. I wish to God I had more time to make you jealous, more time to make you breakfast in bed, more time to declare my undying love for you.
I wish to God I had more time.
Do you remember the time I flirted with all the guys to make you jealous and you were? I thought you'd leave me, but you didn't.