Lydia eventually looked around to see where her husband and Parrish was; her gaze finally landing on a window, only to see her own husband that couldn't even hurt a fly; repeatedly punching Parrish in his -now- not-so-pretty-face.
She stood up from her desk, rushing out of the station and outside.
"Stiles! What're you doing?! Stop!" She grabbed onto Stiles' arm, pulling him back from the man that was now lying on the ground, forcing a whimper out of his bruised lips.
"He was touching you! Inappropriately!" Stiles shouted, which he hardly ever did.
"What? Stiles. Stiles, look at me. What're you talking about?" Lydia ran her hand down his arm, taking his bloody hand in her own.
"How do you not know? Are you covering up for him?!" His breathing hitched in his throat, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto the dry concrete beneath him.
"Stiles, I was too concentrated on work, I didn't know."
Stiles looked over towards Parrish that was still on the ground before nodding his head.
"I better call 9-1-1.." He mutters, pulling out his phone and dialling the number.
"Lets call it even." Stiles says harshly, narrowing his eyes down towards Parrish.
A/N
— So, that was a short two-parter, and I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
— Please vote, comment and ENJOY!!
— cinnamonnugget
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Maybe it's Fate ||• (stydia au)•
FanfictionIt turns out Stiles' ten year plan did work after all..
