Gold ➳ Lydia Martin

15; Miles Argent's Day Off

Miles was now even more unsure about how he was supposed to respond. His years of living in isolation, far away from most people had not left him prepared for this situation. Miles was, however, a firm beleiver of the idea that actions spoke louder then words, and he hoped his instincts led him to taking proper action.

The bedroom wasn't very large, but Miles still took a few slow steps to close the distance between him and the girl sitting on his bed. When he was infront of her, he knelt down so they could be at eye level.

At least, they should've been at eye level, but the fact that Lydia's glassy eyes refused to look in his direction was undermining the gesture he was hoping would come across as gentle and kind. However, those were two words that did not describe Miles Argent, so he was could totally be missing his mark here and be coming off as weird and creepy instead.

Still, Miles took a chance and put himself out on the limb, which again wasn't something he was used to doing. But seeing how fragile Lydia was, how desperate she was to be heard and understood, he felt as if he owed it to her to try to be a normal guy for at least a few minutes longer.

"Lydia," Miles called softly. Lydia responded by closing her eyes, as if she thought she could trap her tears inside. Miles had already seen the water gathering in her eyes, and whether or not Lydia let it spill, she couldn't hide how distraught she was from him and better then Miles could hide how hard he was trying to be a good guy from her in this moment. It seemed as if these two teenagers were at a stand still with emotions that were entirely new to each of them.

Miles thought about trying to say her name again, or saying anything else, but he didn't quite have the emotional range to express how much he hated seeing her so heartbroken. The feeling of hopelessly wanting to console someone was completely foreign to him, and yet it was something he found himself struggling with everytime he was with Lydia.

Eventually, Miles decided on his next course of action. It was something that was terribly unusual for him to do, but in the moment felt like the only thing he could do.

Gently, Miles reached out to Lydia. He moved slowly, half-expecting her to come to her senses and storm out of his room or something. But when she didn't do that, Miles Argent realized that he had committed to doing whatever it took to help Lydia, and that terrified him. While fear wasn't something Miles Argent was used to feeling, he also didn't shy away from it. That just wasn't in his nature.

After moving in what felt like slow motion, Miles gently touched his hand to Lydia's cheek. His hand could've probably enveloped her entire face if he'd let it, but Miles tried his best to be as Un-Miles as possible -- which meant he was making an attempt at being small and not-menacing.

It was a new feat for him, but he managed to use the tips of his fingers in a feather-light touch to turn her face to look at his. As he did, Lydia allowed her eyes to slowly open. They were still watery, but looked less distraught and more expectant as she awaited Miles' next move.

"Lydia," He repeated. His voice somehow managed to be just as gentle as his touch. Miles surprised even himself with what he said next. "There are things that I can't tell you, but it's not because I don't think you're smart enough to understand them, or even too scared to handle it. I can't tell you because you're too damn good. The things that I've seen, they're fucked up. And you don't deserve to be dragged down. I'm not going to let you get dragged down, okay?"

For a moment, Lydia looked like she wanted to protest, to demand answers. But then she saw the sincerity in his eyes, which were only able to hold a fraction of Miles' need to keep her safe, and she decided that for right now his answer was good enough.