Stiles
Stiles sat on the edge of his bed, staring vacantly at the wall, the ghosts of recent traumas playing behind his eyes. His room, once a sanctuary of chaos and comfort, now felt like a prison of memories he couldn't escape. The silence was a heavy cloak, suffocating and all too revealing of the turmoil within. He jumped slightly as Lydia entered, her presence a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere of his room.
"Hey," Lydia began, her voice soft, carrying a warmth Stiles hadn't realized he'd been craving. "I thought you could use some company."
Stiles offered a half-hearted shrug, unable to muster the energy for a smile. "Thanks, Lydia. It's just... everything feels so heavy right now."
Stiles shifted uncomfortably, his gaze lingering on a distant point in his cluttered room. "Lydia, I'm sorry I can't promise I'll be good company right now. You've been dealing with so much, especially... after everything with Aidan. You deserve better from me."
Lydia, her expression soft but her voice firm, corrected him gently, "Stiles, it's okay. Really, it is. But, you know, I've noticed... your attention hasn't really been on me for a while now." She paused, giving him a meaningful look that seemed to see right through him.
Stiles met her gaze, a mix of confusion and realization dawning on him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Lydia continued, a small smile playing on her lips, "that your focus, your thoughts, have been elsewhere—and on someone else, for quite some time. It's okay, Stiles. It's more than okay."
Stiles swallowed hard, the implications of her words settling in. "You knew?" he whispered, almost to himself.
Lydia nodded, her smile widening. "I did. And it's about time you did, too." She said, sitting down beside him. "You're not alone in this. We all care about you... Andrew cares about you."
Stiles' heart skipped a beat at the mention of Andrew, a pang of something akin to hope flickering in his chest. He turned to look at Lydia, a mix of confusion and yearning in his eyes. "Andrew... Do you really think he cares, Lydia? After everything that's happened?"
"Stiles," Lydia said, turning to face him fully, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. "I've seen the way he looks at you. The way he's been there for you, even when you couldn't see him. And, I might not be a love expert, but I know when someone cares deeply about another person. Andrew does, and it's more than just as a friend."
A silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken emotions and possibilities. Stiles fidgeted with the edge of his bedspread, digesting Lydia's words, the reality of his feelings for Andrew suddenly stark and undeniable. He sank deeper into his thoughts, turning over the revelations about his feelings for Andrew. He had always known, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, that his sexuality was fluid, not confined within strict boundaries. Yet, it was only now, in this moment of stark honesty with himself, that he acknowledged the gravity of his attraction to Andrew. From the very beginning, there had been an inexplicable pull towards him, a gravitational force that drew Stiles in with the promise of understanding and acceptance. Was this what love felt like? The realization was both terrifying and exhilarating, a tidal wave of emotion that threatened to sweep him away. Could the feelings he'd navigated around, the moments he'd chalked up to mere friendship or coincidence, have been the early stirrings of love? The thought left him breathless, a profound sense of clarity washing over him as he acknowledged, perhaps for the first time, the depth of his affection for Andrew. This wasn't just a fleeting attraction; it was something deeper, more enduring—a connection that, despite the chaos that surrounded them, had somehow managed to take root and grow.
"But I'm a mess, Lydia. After everything that's happened... how could he possibly want me?" Stiles' voice was barely a whisper, laden with self-doubt.
Lydia reached out, taking his hand in hers, a gesture of solidarity and reassurance. "Stiles, love isn't about wanting someone when they're perfect. It's about seeing them at their worst and still standing by their side. Andrew has seen you at your worst, and he's still here. He's fighting for you, with you. Doesn't that say something?"
Stiles looked down at their intertwined hands, a swell of emotions threatening to overcome him. Lydia's words were a balm to his battered heart, a beacon of light in the darkness he'd been wading through. The thought of Andrew, of the possibility of something more than friendship, was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Maybe you're right, Lydia. Maybe there's a chance for something... more," Stiles admitted, a fragile hope blossoming within him.
Lydia smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that radiated warmth. "There's always a chance, Stiles. You just have to be willing to take it."
As Lydia stood to leave, she squeezed his hand one last time, a silent promise of unwavering support. Stiles watched her go, her words echoing in his mind, a mantra of hope and possibility. In the solitude of his room, the weight of his traumas felt a little lighter, the path ahead a little less daunting. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for happiness, for love, even in the aftermath of darkness.
As Lydia's footsteps faded down the hall, Stiles found himself alone with a whirlwind of thoughts. Her revelation about Andrew stirred a maelstrom of emotions within him, each wave crashing against his heart with the shock of discovery. "Andrew... cares about me?" he pondered in disbelief. The idea seemed alien, yet a part of him had sensed a connection, a bond that went beyond friendship, even in his darkest moments.
Could Lydia be right? Did Andrew see something in him worth caring for, even after everything that had happened? The very thought sent his heart racing, a mix of fear and elation pulsing through his veins. "But how? Why?" Stiles questioned inwardly, his mind replaying every interaction, every glance shared with Andrew, searching for clues he'd previously missed or dismissed.
The concept that someone could look past the chaos of his life, the danger he often brought to those he loved, and still... care about him in that way was overwhelming. "He's seen me at my absolute worst. He knows all of it, the darkness, the danger... and he's still here?" Stiles' mind reeled, trying to reconcile the image of himself he saw in the mirror with the person Lydia claimed Andrew cared for.
Stiles sat with Lydia's words echoing in his mind, stirring a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He remembered the first day he saw Andrew, the instant pull he felt—a curiosity, an attraction that was undeniable. Back then, it was easy to chalk it up to the novelty of a new face, the allure of someone different.
As time passed, that initial spark had morphed into something more comfortable, more familiar. Andrew became a friend, someone Stiles cared deeply about, someone he wanted to protect and see happy, no matter the cost. They shared laughter, fears, and secrets, building a bond that went beyond mere friendship.
Lately, though, his thoughts had begun to wander to what being with Andrew might feel like—not just in a physical sense, but emotionally too. How would it feel to hold his hand, to share quiet moments, to support each other in times of need? The possibility of a relationship with Andrew had started to occupy more and more of his mind, filling him with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
In the silence of his room, Stiles allowed himself to acknowledge the full extent of his feelings for Andrew. It was a transition from attraction, to care, to considering a deeper intimacy, and now, to acknowledging a profound connection that might just be love. This journey of emotions had been unexpected but undeniable, and now that he'd recognized it, there was no going back.
Stiles could feel his heart pounding as he hastily pulled on his clothes, each movement punctuated by a sense of urgency that propelled him forward. His mind was a tempest of thoughts and emotions, swirling with the realization of what he needed to do. The decision to confront his feelings for Andrew had crystallized into a resolve that couldn't be ignored or delayed any longer.
Slipping behind the wheel of his trusty Jeep, Stiles took a deep, steadying breath, trying to quell the nerves that threatened to overwhelm him. The engine roared to life under his touch, familiar and reassuring, yet nothing could fully ease the knot of anticipation tightening in his stomach. This wasn't just another drive; this was a journey towards a confession that could alter the course of their relationship forever.
As he navigated the familiar streets towards Andrew's house, Stiles found his mind racing. What would he say? How would he even begin to express the depth of what he felt? The thought of Andrew's reaction played over and over in his mind, each scenario fuelling his apprehension. Despite the fear, there was also a simmering excitement—an acknowledgment of the possibility that lay on the other side of this admission.
Pulling up outside of Andrew's house, Stiles' fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel. This was it—the moment of truth. He had to tell Andrew how he felt, had to reveal the truth that had been building within him. Taking a moment to gather his courage, Stiles stepped out of the Jeep, his steps carrying him towards the door with a determination born of newfound clarity.
He was nervous, incredibly so, but underneath the nerves was a conviction that this was right, that this was necessary. Stiles knew he had to take this leap, had to lay his feelings bare. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take for the chance at something real, something profound with Andrew.
The darkness of the house enveloped Stiles as he stepped inside, the absence of light mirroring the growing unease within him. Andrew's car in the driveway had been a beacon of hope, a sign that what he needed to say, what he needed to confess, could find its recipient tonight. Yet, the unlit windows and silent rooms spoke of a different reality, one that Stiles hadn't prepared for.
He moved through the house, each step heavy with a mix of determination and dread. Reaching Andrew's room, he hesitated at the threshold, his hand gripping the key—a small, yet significant token of their connection. It was a trust, a bond that had allowed him this small privilege, and now, standing at the door to what felt like a pivotal moment, that trust felt both comforting and daunting.
With a deep breath, Stiles entered, his eyes adjusting to the gloom. The familiarity of the room, with its scattered belongings and the distinct sense of Andrew that lingered in the air, was a stark contrast to the void that seemed to have opened within him. His thumb hovered over the screen of his phone, composing a message that carried the weight of his revelation. "Dude, I have to tell you something." The words, simple yet laden with meaning, were sent into the void, only to be returned with a cold finality that made his heart sink. "Message Undeliverable. Number No Longer In Service."
Panic set in, swift and merciless. Stiles' mind raced as he frantically searched the room, noting the mix of presence and absence. Andrew's belongings were a testament to a life still rooted in this space, yet the glaring gaps spoke of a departure, of decisions made and actions taken in silence. Among the remnants of Andrew's presence, a single Polaroid lay on the bed—a snapshot of a moment, of them together, smiling, caught in a memory that now felt both precious and painful.
The realization hit Stiles like a physical blow. Andrew was gone. The weight of the Polaroid in his hand was a tangible reminder of what had been and what could have been. The image, a frozen testament to their connection, now served as a farewell note that left more questions than answers. In the silent room, amidst the evidence of a life partially packed away, Stiles stood alone, grappling with the sudden absence of someone who had become a pillar in his world. The stark reality that Andrew had left without a word, without a goodbye, left Stiles reeling, the plans and confessions he'd carried with him now echoing in the void of Andrew's departure.
Part 3 of Teen Wolf: The Alternate Path - coming soon.