Summary: Stiles and Lydia get stuck in an elevator. Arguing, one lets out a confession the other is not expecting to hear.
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For the prompts: "Imagine your OTP stuck in an elevator after they've had a fight" and "Imagine your OTP getting in a fight and one of them yelling that they love the other one and then it gets really quiet". Stydia one-shot.
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"LYDIA!"
She didn't even have the time to turn around to see what was happening and next thing she knows she's bleeding. Stiles runs to her side and manages to tackle her opponent with his bat, leaving him unconscious. He ties the guy's hands and feet so he won't be able to chase them anymore and he has already called Scott to meet them there, in an abandoned building just outside of Beacon Hills.
Stiles and Lydia have been doing research for the pack, only today they took more of a field trip. They didn't expect the guy they were meeting for information to turn against them and that's why they have been running around the fifth floor of said building trying to get away from the guy. Well, Stiles has been trying to run, he sprained his ankle somewhere between seeing the scene unfold and running towards Lydia. He tries his best to make sure Lydia is okay and to check the cut on her arm but she starts to flinch, getting away from his grip. And that's when they start arguing.
He's been over Malia for months now and has returned to some of his trademark boyish features, like putting Lydia on a pedestal. He doesn't want her out of his sight and won't let her do anything that might be remotely dangerous, somehow trying to make it up to her for the time he lost with the werecoyote. That's why he always gets in danger's way, especially when it comes to Lydia. It mostly comes natural to him, like protecting her is something he's supposed to do. What he doesn't get is why she gets mad at him.
Lydia doesn't really blame him, but she's stronger now. She's been learning some self-defense techniques and doesn't need a knight in shining armor, or a blue Jeep for that matter. Stiles is the human, not her. Sure, her abilities don't quite protect her but she can use them as leverage if in need; he can't. She knows he does it because he cares but the problem is he's the one who ends up getting hurt and she won't have it, not because of her.
Stiles and Lydia almost forget they were just being chased by some opportunistic ass who wanted to catch a banshee for some money. They argue and yell at the other the same way they have for days now. By the time they reach the service elevator they are not talking to one another but she's still supporting his weight because of his foot, her arms wrapped around his waist. She doesn't think it's such a good idea to use the elevator; it's an old building and it barely made its trip when they came up but there's no way Stiles can make it down the stairs with his ankle already swelling.
And of course the elevator had to stop working. They haven't even reached the fourth floor and they're trapped. Also, the abrupt halt made Stiles slam his ankle against the floor heavily and now he can hardly stand because of the pain. They get a little nervous but there's not much they can do about it. Stiles had immobilized their attacker, so that won't be a problem. They spend a few minutes looking for solutions, ways to get out. Stiles tries to force the door open to find a concrete wall and there's nothing on the ceiling for them to try and escape. He had called Scott already, so their Alpha would be able to get them out in no time; until then, they will have to wait.
Stiles sits on the ground with his back against one of the walls, taking off both his right shoe and sock to take a better look at his ankle; it's a little bruised and swelling. Lydia, who started pacing back and forth, or just taking a step in each direction because the elevator is really small, that is, looks at him worried. Hopefully Scott won't take long.
"Would you please sit down?" Stiles asks her. "You're making me nervous."
"There's not enough space. I'll just stay still," she says. It's a tiny space, scarcely two square meters.
He moves a little to his right and pats the floor at his left. "Please, Lydia."
She takes a full minute to think, her mind wandering. She really doesn't want to be mad at Stiles but he has got to start listening to her because three weeks ago when she was almost knocked down by a car, he hurt his shoulder trying to get her out of the way and today it's his ankle; who knows what could be next. When she sits, his left hand is still on the ground so she adjusts and gets closer to him. He's not exactly embracing her, just touching her slightly. She leans forward, trying to look at his foot.
"We're taking you to Melissa as soon as we're out of here," she mutters. "Wouldn't want it to get worse."
"It's a twisted ankle, Lydia. It doesn't hurt that much," he replies. Of course he's lying. It hurts like a bitch.
She rolls her eyes at him. "I don't believe you."
"I don't care. Now let me take a look at your arm." He moves even closer to her. Her left upper arm has a small cut and it's bleeding. It's not that deep but she might need stitches.
Lydia holds her breath. They're so close she could easily kiss his neck right now, his moles in display for her to trace. She purses her lips together like she always seems to do when she's around him. Taking her scarf, he ties it around her arm to stop the bleeding. His fingers on her skin make her shiver.
"Does it hurt?" He questions, turning his head to look at her. As if suddenly aware of their proximity, he returns to his sitting position leaning against the wall again, blushing.
She shakes her head. "No, not that much."
He knows she's lying too. "Guess we'll both see Melissa, then."
She smiles. "I'm sorry about your bat."
Stiles may have kind of broke it in two when he knocked the guy out. "And you keep saying I should find something better than a baseball bat." He chuckles. "I'll just buy another one, I guess. Maybe I should get one for you too," he teases.
She doesn't smile this time. "You have to stop this, Stiles. I mean it."
He sighs. "Can we not talk about this again? We'll just argue and I'm really not up for it."
"Stiles, that's not... I don't want to fight either, but you need to stop. You keep getting hurt." She gestures towards his foot.
"I am not apologizing for protecting you, Lydia, I'm not. I told you that already."
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Stilinski."
"Yeah, it shows," he says frowning, pointing at her arm.
"Ugh." She lets out a groan, frustrated, running her hands through her hair. "You just don't get it, do you?"
"Lyd-"
"No." She lifts a finger, shutting him up. "I'm tired of everyone getting hurt because of me. My grandma died somehow trying to protect me, Allison, Aiden. I- I can't..." Her voice is trembling, failing her.
"It wasn't your fault," he murmurs.
"It doesn't make it any better, Stiles."
"Lydia, I'm fine."
Without realizing they're getting closer, their breathing becoming more elaborate, their tone rising.
"Until you're not. Then what? What am I supposed to do, Stiles? Do you have an answer for that?"
"Stop being stubborn. You got hurt because you didn't know he had a knife on him and because I wasn't fast enough. And I got hurt, well, because I'm me. It doesn't make a difference. I'll still be here."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you still here?" The question comes out more of a whisper now.
"You know I care about you, Lydia. We're friends. And we've been over this before. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He wants to reach for her, stroke her cheek or grab her hand, but he's not sure if he should so he doesn't.
"I just don't want you getting hurt," she mumbles.
"And I don't want you getting hurt either so we're at an impasse."
She's frustrated and raising her tone again. "Oh and I'm the one who's stubborn?"
"Geez Lydia, I've been hurt before, okay? I have been hurt pretty bad plenty of times and I'm still here. I don't even know why we keep arguing about this. Why does it even matter?"
"Because I'm in love with you," she blurts out. Her hands cover her mouth quickly and Stiles and Lydia just stare at each other. That's not how she wanted to say it and it's not what he expected to hear, so they don't move for a while; the only sound they hear is their breathing. When her hands fall to her lap, she opens her mouth to say something but then closes it. She opens and closes her mouth once again, no words coming out.
He's not sure where he's getting the air to let out his own, barely audible. "Don't- Don't you dare take that back."
She shakes her head slowly. "I wasn't- I'm not."
He bites his lower lip, trying to hide a smile that is threatening to escape at the corner of his mouth. Avoiding her gaze and looking down, giving in, he starts laughing.
She looks confused. "Stiles?"
He only stops laughing to ask her "Is this why we've been arguing?" and then continues, even bending forward a little, his hands around his stomach like he needs some sort of support from laughing so much.
She slaps his arm probably a little harder than necessary. "God, you're such an idiot," she says, starting to laugh too. He's contagious, the bastard.
Stiles inhales deeply, trying to control himself. He looks at her, a grin on his lips, getting closer again. "I'm your idiot."
"I hate you," she says smiling, getting closer too. Her hands find his neck.
"You love me." His hands find her waist.
"I love you." Their foreheads touch.
"I love you too."
They close their eyes and hold their breaths, lips barely brushing.
They scream. They scream and loud because the elevator started moving all of a sudden and they were startled. A little anxious, they both get up from the ground. Stiles gets in front of Lydia, keeping her out of harm's way. When the door opens, Scott and Kira are looking at them concerned. Stiles is still barefoot and Lydia has blood running down her arm, a lot of it still fresh.
"I'm sorry it took us so long. We couldn't get to you, so we had to figure out how to get the elevator working again." Scott says. "Are you guys okay?"
They are both a little flushed. Looking at each other and smiling, Stiles and Lydia hold hands. "Yeah. We're okay."
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A/N: Feel free to leave me a review to let me know what you thought of the story.
Until next time xx
Susana