Birthday drabbles

Drabble #11 - "I think it's about time we stop avoiding the obvious."

"Lyds, I'm not leaving." Feeling bold, Stiles crosses the room until he's right in front of her, standing as close as he can without actually occupying the space she's in.

He blushes instantly at the proximity.

So does she. "Stiles-"

"You don't want to admit that you're jealous, fine. But I'm not going anywhere until you tell me something."

"What?!"

He smiles wickedly at her, a glint in his eyes that he reserves especially for her but tonight with a little malice in it.

Defiance.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't turn her on, more so when Stiles fucking dares to rest his forehead against hers and places his left hand on her waist.

This has never happened before.

Naturally, her breath catches in her throat.

"Tell me you don't want this," he whispers, his breath yet again grazing her lips like it did at the party three weeks before, his eyes boring into hers and keeping her breathless. "Tell me you don't want this," he repeats, bending down to drag the tip of his nose tauntingly across her jaw and down her neck, "and I'll leave right now." He breathes out against her collarbone and she shivers. He looks back up at her. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this, and I'll be gone before you can ask me to leave. We'll pretend this never happened and I'll drop the subject, simple as that."

Lydia doesn't understand how her heart went from being practically paralyzed to almost wanting to rip out from her chest and escape for how quickly it's stammering all of a sudden. "S- Stiles..." She stutters, her voice betraying her. She sounded completely weak even to her ears.

"I don't want excuses. I don't want to know why that genius brain of yours thinks that this," he gestures between them, "is not gonna work. I just want the truth, Lydia. It's a simple yes or no question. Do you want this or not?"

It feels like this might just be the most important question he'll ever ask her in their life, and yet Lydia finds herself choosing the third option. There's a slimmer of playfulness in his stare that makes her believe he's just playing her. She goes with her instinct.

Pursing her lips, Lydia doesn't say a word.

He sees right through her, of course. "You know, I don't need you to actually speak. I've learned to read you years ago, Lydia. You should know that by now." She ignores the way her heart falters at just how true that is. "And you know what you're saying?" His lips brush hers. His lips actually brush hers and she can't help the way her eyes flutter closed for a second. "Not no."

Lydia sighs reflexively, and for a second Stiles thinks she's actually gonna kiss him.

In all honesty, so does she.

Instead, Lydia opens her eyes and leans back against the wall behind her, studying him. Stiles follows suit, both hands on her waist now, his body pressing against hers in a way that Lydia can only describe as agonizingly pleasing.

But god, she'll be damned if she's the one touching him!

He raises an eyebrow at her, far too amused for Lydia's liking. "Speechless, uh? It's that serious?" Lydia only glares back. "I mean, I know it's that serious..." She glares harder. It only makes him let out a laugh. "You're jealous all the time and, might I add, not only at parties anymore. There's no place we go where I don't see you get jealous..." he rambles.

It's true, though. Just hours before, Lydia had glared at a girl so hard, back when they were in the cafeteria and the girl approached them to talk to Stiles, that Stiles himself thought the girl would catch fire. Then again just before they came home, at the library where they were studying together, Lydia kept commenting how a group of three girls and a guy were drooling, and it wasn't over her. It's been constant, and Stiles has been pushing Lydia to admit that there's something there but she always brushes it off like it's nothing, like she can make this go away if she ignores it for long enough.

He'll be damned if he lets her.

"And..." he continues. "We've been arguing so much about it lately, Lydia, and not once," he points a finger at her, "not once have you said you didn't want this, us, to happen. You've said several times that you're not jealous and I just can't believe you, but I will let it slide because I haven't heard you say that you don't want me." Stiles takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "So here's what I'm gonna do."

She feels lightheaded because he fucking nailed it and he's gonna be the death of her one day, she just knows it. If there's someone who rivals Lydia Martin, it's Stiles Stilinski.

And she's fucking in love with him.

He looks around for a moment, scanning her bedroom before speaking. "I..." He walks away from her in a quick movement and Lydia misses his touch instantly. Stiles picks up the clothes he had left folded on top of her desk - his Spiderman pj that Lydia likes to see him on so much - and holds them close to his chest. "I am gonna go," he says calmly, "and I'll give you some time to think about it. You look like you need it," he murmurs, stepping back and to her bedroom door.

Lydia pouts.

Lydia Martin actually pouts.

It's Stiles Stilinski's fault. "Wait. You don't have to-"

"It's okay," he tells her, offering the strawberry blonde a warm smile. "I'll just sleep at mine's tonight."

"But- But you always sleep here..."

He does. Whenever they study together, one will crash at the other's apartment so they can revise some more in the dead of night and fall asleep with one's head to the other's feet as they stare at the empty ceiling, just enjoying the other's company.

Those are the nights when Lydia sleeps best.

The thing is she doesn't want to admit to him that she's jealous. Hell, she doesn't want to admit it to herself, but this can't mess with their relationship.

Friendship!

She meant friendship.

"Stiles, just... Just stay."

He chuckles.

Lydia is not sure whether that should make her more nervous or not.

"Lyds, I can read you like the back of my hand, alright? You obviously know how you feel, even if you're not ready to admit it yet. So I'm gonna do what I do best." Lydia fiddles with the hem of her shirt, waiting expectant for him to continue. "I'll let Lydia Martin take control of the situation." If she wasn't so anxious, she'd grin at him right then. He knows all of her and she loves all of him for it. "You're at a loss when you're not in control, so I'll do my part and give you time to figure out what you're gonna do." He takes a couple steps towards her. "I don't care if it takes you five minutes, an hour, a day or a week. And until then, whatever you decide, we'll just be us. Well, the usual us, anyway."

He leans down slowly, and this time the kiss on her cheek turns to a kiss on the corner of her lips. Lydia wishes he had lingered so she could return it.

He cups her cheeks. "You know where to find me." His thumbs brush her cheekbones softly. "I'm ready whenever you are."

And with that and an almost shy smile, he turns around and leaves and Lydia is left shell-shocked, her mind replaying his words countless times in such a short amount of time as she's barely breathing, the warmth of his eyes, of him, teasingly haunting her.

It doesn't take her a week, a day, an hour or five minutes to react.

It takes her one after she hears the front door closing, and the next she knows she's moving.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think :)