She gently takes the liquor from his hand, setting it on the coffee table in front of them. "That's enough of that... What's going on? Why did you call me?" Lydia asks gently.
Stiles shifts in his position, sinking farther into the sofa while turning on his side to face the strawberry blonde.
His face seemed to drop, growing paler by the second as he thought.
"Today's a very sad day, Martin." Stiles grumbles, his voice lowering from its previous volume. "You know what today is?" Lydia shakes her head, still confused.
"Today's the anniversary of my very first panic attack." He swallows harshly, "today's the day my mom died."
And finally, Lydia understood. A single tear falls from his eye but Stiles refused to let out anymore, he didn't want her to see him like this. He was supposed to be stronger than this and it almost angered him that he was sad. Lydia brushes his messy hair back out of his face and they both exchange sympathetic smiles.
With a sigh, he curls into her body, letting more tears falling now that she can't see. Lydia didn't mind, holding him close as if he'd disappear when she let go. She had to admit, she was slowly starting to fall in love with the dork, a lingering feeling in the pit of her stomach every time he was near. But it was hard to convince herself, making up excuses like eating food too fast or being on her period and it was just cramps. Then there were times when she had no excuse whatsoever and that's when she'd know.
Like when Stiles would casually drape his arm across her shoulder in the hallways at school. Or when the pack would hang out and he'd sit just a little too close to her. It was becoming more and more hard to deny, especially with his sexy lip biting and playful eye rolling. But then there were also rare moments like these that made her love him even more; to see him as he really was instead of someone who tries to meet supernatural standards and pretend that he's okay. Lydia never minded take care of a broken Stiles, even though this was the only the second time she'd ever done it.
When they finally release each others hold, Stiles doesn't dare meet her eyes, wiping dried tears from his cheeks while he slowly starts to sober up.
"Why didn't you call Scott? Why me?" Lydia asks, noticing how close their bodies were.
"We're not exactly on the same page. Probably not even in the same book." Stiles plays with his hands little, praying Lydia doesn't ask the question he already knows is coming.
"Why?" She mutters. How was he supposed to tell the love of his life that he'd murdered someone he was supposed to try and save?
"Can we....not? For right now? I really just want to get drunk." Stiles pleads. Lydia glances at the bottle on the coffee table and she snatches it up with a sigh, taking a drink herself before passing it back to Stiles.
"So about that sex..." Lydia brings up making Stiles laugh, rubbing a hand down his face. He takes a drink, passing the bottle back to Lydia and she repeats his action. They go on for a while, making small conversation to bring Stiles' mind off of his mother and Scott until eventually they're both a little loopy. Then somehow they brought up the topic of past lovers. Lydia went on for a moment about Jackson though she never really plunged into much detail. And then there was Malia.
"I never REALLY loved Malia. Liked her, yes, but never love." He turns, sitting upright so he can look at his friend and he smacks his lips. "She was so-she was so not you. Like, Lydia," he places a hand on her shoulder. "Lydia I've always loved you. You're perfect I mean, five foot three, green eyes, strawberry blonde hair and have you seen your ass? You're freaking hot."
Lydia throws him a warning glance and he clears his throat, looking away from her.
But he doesn't stop. "And you're so smart, Lydia. OHMYGOD you're so smart and you used to be so mean to me and now you're so kind. SO KIND!" He repeats, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the couch. "like, old Lydia would never do this. Old Lydia would NEVER come and get drunk with this nerd." He gestures to himself, finally finishing. And Lydia doesn't think he means to say what comes next and if he did, maybe he didn't want her to hear but it was plan as day.
"Lydia Martin, I love you." Stiles whispers, eyes still closed as he smiles to himself, completely satisfied by the situation.
They sit in silence for a moment, Stiles not realizing what he said and Lydia trying to wrap her tipsy head around it. Stiles still loved her? The Stiles that she had assumed was still heartbroken over his late girlfriend. If she was being honest, and she was, it almost made her feel relieved. She scoots closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as he straightens out. She grabs onto his hand with hers while Stiles leans his own head on hers and intertwined their fingers.
"Stiles?" She whispers, finally making up her mind.
"Mhm?" He studies the way their hands fit together perfectly, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin.
"I love you." Lydia mumbles. He smiles, waiting his whole life for the moment those exact words would finally leave her lips, just for him.
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Authors note:
Trying desperately to write more stories.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
6. Coping With Death
Comenzar desde el principio
