Gold ➳ Lydia Martin

15; Miles Argent's Day Off

Miles was glad she decided not to demand more from him because he honestly didn't think he had it in him to come up with a lie. What he had already said was the complete truth, anyways. He fully and completely believed that Lydia Martin was too good for the messed up hell that he has always had no choice but to be a part of. If he could keep her from being a part of the supernatural world, then he would move heaven and hell to do so.

Neither Miles nor Lydia realized how much weight she allowed to rest in his palm until Miles finally retracted his hand and caused Lydia to unconsciously leaned closer. Miles didn't know what to make of this, so he moved away and stood back up.

Lydia remained sitting on his bed, not seeming like she had plans to move any time soon. Her eyes flitted upwards as she waited to see what Miles was going to do next.

"So," Miles started, his voice a strange cross between gruff and confused. In dire need of moving something to try to get the sudden anxious energy out of his body, Miles once again ran his hand through his still damp hair. "Did you, um, just come here to drop off the work I missed, or do you have some time to help me figure it out."

Lydia cocked her head to the side ever so slightly and as her hair consequently fell away from her face, Miles was able to catch an amused glint in her eyes. He was relieved to see that the pain that had possessed them before was just a memory for now.

"That's funny," Lydia noted. Now a smile ghosted her glossy lips and Miles felt pride bubbling up in his stomach for being the cause of it. "As if you'd do the work if I left," Lydia scoffed.

She really is smart, Miles thought when he registered Lydia's remark. Well, okay, it didn't take a genius to know that Miles wasn't exactly the poster child for being studious, but the fact that that she had the guts to call him out on it? That was something.

Miles couldn't help it, he let out a deep rumble that he realized a moment to late was actually a chuckle. It wasn't an action he was used to doing and he thought it sounded strange.

Lydia, however, was amused by the sound. Her ghost of a grin was resurrected into a smirk.

Shaking his head as if that would get rid of the sudden embarrassment he felt, Miles moved to sit at the head of his bed. Fluffing up his pillow to support himself comfortably, he leaned back and watched as Lydia turned to him, her smirk not quite fading.

Lydia positioned herself so that she was a little closer to Miles, crossed her legs so that she could sit comfortably, and then handed him the pile of papers. The hunter bit back a groan as he took the papers. Somehow, they seemed to double in size since he'd first spared them a glance. It was going to take him ages to get through all of the work, but it didn't seem like Lydia planned on going anywhere for a while.

It felt it took half a lifetime to get through all the work Miles has missed, along with having Lydia teach him all the stuff he simply never learned, but neither teenager seemed to mind. After page after page of what Miles considered to be something akin to torture (which he knew a fair bit about) Lydia finally handed him the last packet of work that she had collected for him. Miles still wasn't sure how she'd known which classes he had, but he didn't really feel like he needed the answer.

"I'm assuming this is something you don't need help with?" Lydia asked.

Miles looked at the paper and quickly realized it was from his French class. "I think this is the one thing that I can actually understand," he sighed. Despite taking a day to stay home a rest, Miles somehow looked more tired then he had before. It seemed as though being a high schooler took a bigger toll on him then being a hunter of the supernatural.