A Beacon Hills Reunion-STYDIA AU

1. The Red Head & 4 Dudes

Lydia-POV

I wake up to hear the sound of the monotonous beeping of the microwave's countdown and the faint sizzling of a frying pan, which is soon followed by the sound of a metal object crashing to the floor. Jackson Whittemore is probably in my kitchen attempting to make breakfast right now. He has been attending a cooking class every Thursday morning, but his improvement is, I emphasize the word, slowly is progressing. Before I unwrap myself out of my lavender colored sheets, I turn to face my nightstand like I do every morning to look at a picture of Jordan on my nightstand.

Jordan was my husband. He became a deputy for the New York Police Department, after the two of us left Beacon Hills once I graduated from high school. We both wanted to abandon that town for the longest time because it seemed like that there was constantly a life-threatening villain that craved for power, which only made life more difficult and exhausting for the entire pack. Fortunately, towards the end of my senior year, the threats dwindled in size, which only convinced Jordan and I that we would leave after my graduation and have a fresh start in New York. What better place to make a fresh start than the other side of the country, right? Since we didn't know anyone besides ourselves in New York, we managed to find new friends thanks to the city life, but we became closer than ever before. Then by the end of my freshmen year college, we were dating and exclusive. Through all the crazy night shifts at the station and my hectic studying schedule, we still managed to spend time with one another. Whether we went to a bar to listen to really drunk people sing on karaoke night or we binged watched Stranger Things on Netflix while munching on a bowl filled with Ramen. Either way, we still kept our relationship alive and thriving throughout my education. After college, I became known as Mrs. Martin-Parrish once Jordan proposed on my graduation day. Although every girl dreams about what her wedding day is going to be like, we decided to use the money that it would cost to have an exuberant wedding to cover our honeymoon instead. So, as a result, we got married a week later at city hall.

Unfortunately, our marriage only lasted ten months, because Jordan died while trying to stop an armed robbery. He was shot in the chest and bled out on the floor according to the medical examiner. You may be wondering isn't he a hellhound? Well, the truth is Beacon Hills drew him in for a reason, to connect with the inner hellhound. However, the strongest way for him to tap into the hellhound is in Beacon Hills and we were on the complete opposite side of the country.

His body was never found and the people that were behind the armed robbery were never brought to justice for murdering him. The police assumed that with the amount of blood that was present he died as they dragged him away.

The last night we were together, was before he was going to leave for his night shift. I was ecstatic to share with him the news that I was pregnant. I remember seeing his face after I said the news, he was thrilled. He swung me up into his arms and kissed me just like in the movies. After the news of his death, I didn't handle it very well.  Especially when I ended up having a miscarriage, tearing me apart in more ways than one.

I played with my charm bracelet like I do every morning as I watch it dangle.  Everyone morning the same thing,  I watch as the sunlight reflects the shimmers of the morning sun, exposing its rays in places of my room that are usually filled with darkness. One of the charms is a sterling silver heart that Parrish gave to me on our honeymoon.

After a while of thinking of random plans for the day ahead and relaxing in my toasty warm bed, I decide to emerge out of my covers and enter the kitchen. I immediately spot Jackson swishing the frying pan back and forth in his hand. "Smells good. Is that bacon by any chance?" I question stepping on the creaky floorboards wearing my fuzzy polka-dotted socks feet, making my way towards the stool.