So I know that "Sterek" stole the show for everyone but it was that car scene with Stiles and Lydia for me. Jut hearing the raw emotion in his voice and the beautiful acting and it was different for them. It wasn't cute adorable perfect lighthearted banter, it was pure hurt and confusion and love. I don't care what anybody says, but I seriously believe that Stiles loves Lydia and nothing will ever change that. I cannot wait until next Monday now that everyone thinks it's going to be Lydia, (WHICH IT IS NOT) way, way to obvious and if it is, I would be seriously disappointed in Jeff Davis because he is usually better than that. I just can't wait for Stiles to be over protective and dialogue is just brewing in my head already... But anyway, enjoy :)
The keys were heavy in my hand as I walked off the filed and towards the school. The cold air clung to my breath, as I moved quick as possible towards the parking lot that would lead me to the back of the school. Get in, get out. I repeated over and over. No matter how cute the guy looked, Allison's Grandfather was a psycho. I rounded the corner towards the last set of parked cars when one in particular caught my attention. I know that car, and of course the beautiful strawberry blonde in the front seat. No, Stiles, you need to stay on track. But she should be at the game, she told Allison she would be there when I was talking to them earlier, she even smiled at me.
As I fought against my better judgment and moved closer to her, I noticed she was crying. That's all she seemed to do these past few weeks. It killed me that she was feeling so alone and helpless.
"Hey Lydia, what's wrong?" I asked moving even closer.
At the signal of my presence, she quickly rolled up the window, looking away from me.
"Just go away!" She demanded, the tears falling like crystals in the dashboard lighting.
I didn't move, just tapped on the glass. "Look I don't need anyone seeing me cry."
She admitted. It probably would have came out sheepish if she wasn't crying so hard.
"Oh, come on Lydia." I paused, "Look you shouldn't care if people see you cry, alright?"
I stared at her, gaining her attention. "Especially you."
"Why?" Her lips were set in a pout and her eyes were puffy.
"Because I think you look really beautiful when you cry."
It couldn't have been more pathetic to say, it couldn't have been more inappropriate. I rested my hand against the window, my breath fogging up the glass. The girl I practically love is crying her eyes out and all I can seem to say is that she looks beautiful. It isn't a lie, it could never be a lie. There is nothing Lydia Martin can do that would be anything less from perfect in my eyes. Well, except kissing my best friend, but we're not going there. I thought I really done it, and any second the engine would be started and she'd speed out of there, never looking back, but instead, she sniffed and rolled down the window. I was surprised, but more relived. She shouldn't have to do this all on her own.
She should feel like she has a friend.
After all we were friends, weren't we?
She took a few seconds to regain herself. She took out a tissue from the glove box and dabbed at her damp cheeks with no avail, the drops kept coming. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
"You're gonna think I'm crazy." Lydia whispered, her warm breath touching my chilled cheeks.
I wanted to laugh. Really? She really needs to hang out with us all more. Then she'd know crazy.
"Lydia, if you can trust me on anything, you could trust me on this. There is nothing you can say to me that would make you sound crazy. Literally nothing."
She seemed to take a minute to digest that and looked away, trying to stop her tears, trying to understand why someone like me was trying so damn hard to make her smile, when of course cheers were heard, the crowd down on the field going wild. Oh crap. The game. The keys. Everything. I groaned loudly. Fighting myself. But of course I would do the right thing.
"Could you just give me five minutes?" I furrowed my brows and gave her a perplexed look.
Lydia said nothing, just glaring. I had finally got her to open up and now...
"I know, I'm sorry but just stay here- um, continue crying or not crying if you want or whatever works for you- but just stay here and I'll be right back okay?- and we can talk, about anything."
I started to chronically ramble, needing so many things done at once.
"Yeah, okay just five minutes?" I asked again, needing to make sure she'd be here when I got back. I got less than a glance but I took it as a small victory and headed towards the school.
Never to return...
I was fuming. I was car-less. I was soaked.
Nothing can go right for me can it? I just spent the last three hours in the school pool holding up a paralyzed werewolf who weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. I was sore and tired and I smelt of chlorine and my eyes burned. I needed a hot shower, maybe some eye drops and sleep, lots and lots of glorious sleep, seeing as it was Friday I had nothing to do for the weekend. Well, nothing except figure out what this Lizard thing was up to, and who it was.
I shivered remembering those eyes so clearly.
Or maybe I was shivering from the cold. It had to be about fifty degrees out, and I was marching my ass not home, not to my shower and warm bed, but to Park Drive to make amends.
It wasn't that late, only around eleven thirty, or at least it was when Scott left me at the school to fend for myself. I sighed and paced up and down the width of her property. There was one car in the driveway, Lydia's; and a light was on upstairs but I couldn't remember if it was her room or not. Damn I wish I didn't ruin my cell phone. Combing my hand over the soft prickles of my growing hair I knew I needed to talk to her, no matter how late and jogged up her long walk towards her front door.
After a few moments of patient and heart pounding waiting light was seen from the other side of the door, the brightness escaped from the windows on either side of the french doors. I sighed quickly.
"Stiles?" Lydia questioned, relief in her voice.
"Hey, Lydia. I am so-" I paused, my eyes narrowing. "Is that a baseball bat?"
Lydia blushed, setting the wooden death bludgeon aside, propped against the wall and crossed her arms, a glare forming in her sparkly green eyes. She was ready to strike and I was ready to hear it.
"You never showed up." Lydia pointed out. It proved she waited, I told myself.
"I know and I am so, so sorry. You wouldn't believe what happened." I held my arms out in front of me.
Lydia licked her lips and cocked her head to the side, her neat pony tail swaying with her.
She really shouldn't do things like that, it just stirs something inside me.
"Lydia, I didn't mean to- I got held up with something and I feel terrible."
She wasn't budging. Just standing their, looking so appealing and glaring, a lot.
"But I'm here now and I want to talk to you, you really looked like you could-"
"Could what?" Lydia snapped, getting defensive.
"Could use a friend." I whispered.
Lydia's eyes widened and smoldered. She sighed shakily and shut the door behind her as she met me on the porch. She took a seat and eyed me until I followed.
The stars were out tonight. It was the first thing I noticed. Well, second thing. First was how sad Lydia looked, and how much I wanted to make her feel better.
"So, why would I think you're crazy?" I asked quietly after some silence.
Lydia licked her lips again. The chilly wind rustling her hair.
"I'm feeling much better now, Stiles. I don't want to talk about it."
"Sure you do." I commented, her eyes on me instantly. "You wouldn't be out here if you didn't."
"Ever think I just like your company Stilinisk?" She quipped in an adorable tactic.
"Nice try but I know you can't stand me."
"That's not true." She promised, her voice so quiet and intimate.
"So then prove it, talk to me. Let me help you Lydia."
She smiled at me, shrugging her shoulders.
"You can't." She whispered before the tears began.
She was perfect no matter what mood she was in.
She wasn't able to use a wall this time, not with me.
She will see that she has somebody to trust right in front of her one of these days.
She'll see me.