She must've fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her mother. That's the only reasonable explanation Lydia could think of as to why she was waking in the living room to a thunderous pounding on her front door. Miss Martin was out at work but her new schedule meant staying late hours meaning Lydia was often waiting until she got home safely. The petit girl rubbed her eyes and grabbed her phone to check the time. Not only did she see the late hour but also several texts from her favorite freckle faced friend. The knocking on the door started up again and if she looked hard enough out the window and into the darkness, she could just make out the light blue of a familiar jeep.
"Lydia I-I did something that I'm not sure was right and I can't take it back, I can't fix it a-and I don't know what to do." He was freaking out, hands behind his head, looking down, narrowly avoiding the girl and making a beeline for her couch. But he didn't sit. He paced around frantically, as if sitting may cause his problem to get worse.
"Calm down. I'm sure we can figure out something. Just tell me what's wrong." Lydia closed the front door. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes tightly before opening them again, being sure to look right at her. "Di-did they do it?" He mumbled. She didn't answer back, speechless. His gaze flickered nervously around her face, watching her reaction, knowing she was pretending not to be a little scared.
She tottered a bit on her feet, almost running into the wall as she made her way to the couch as well. "I need to sit." She said, Stiles followed close behind.
"I'm sorry." He told her with such determination she thought he might have practiced it on the way over. As if he needed to apologize for this. He sat next to her on the sofa and for a split second she forgot. Until she looked at his familiar golden eyes only to find them more golden than they'd ever been before. She couldn't help but stare.
"Well turn them off!" She said, raising her tone slightly.
"They aren't headlights, I don't know how to do that yet!" He growled. Like, actually growled and the small fangs that had suddenly appeared in his mouth made her gasp. The tiny noise caught in his ear and he turned from her immediately, hiding his face from her view. She caught him faintly muttering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again, clenched fists at his side. Lydia placed a hand on his back, reassuringly. When he turned back, his eyes were that ever dazzling caramel she had grown so familiar with. The corner of her mouth perked up.
"They're normal." She informed him.
"I didn't mean to. . . I mean –I mean I did mean too but by the time I didn't it had already happened." He was completely flustered.
She cleared her throat and scooted closer. "What did happen?"
"It was Peter. A long time ago he offered it to me but I refused. But then today, I was just so mad at Scott and at Malia and even Liam for not believing in me, for not trusting me to–. . .So I found Peter. I told him to bite me."
"And Peter being Peter, of course, did." Lydia sighed.
"I know, I'm sorry."
"Why do you keep apologizing?"
". . .cause I feel like I let you down. Cause I knew when I told you you would be disappointed in me." He kept twiddling his thumbs, messing with his fingers as a distraction, anything to avoid looking at her directly.
"You don't know how I feel." She said, surprising him. "Disappointed? Slightly. But I'm just glad you survived. Not everyone heals from that, not everyone comes back from that alive." She rested her hand on his arm cautiously, giving him a smile. "So what are you going to do? The full moon is in two days. . .or uh nights I guess."
He sighed and could feel his heartbeat quicken at the mention. No, he could hear his heartbeat even before he felt it. Suddenly it's like all he could focus on we're his heighten senses: he could hear the couple fighting in the house across the street, smell the berry perfume Lydia kept upstairs in her room. "I-I don't know." The thought of chaining himself up made his stomach churn and he felt sick even though he knew he couldn't possibly be. Not anymore.
"Your eyes are glowing again." Lydia whispered. Cursing under his breath, Stiles turned away again and rubbed at his eyes. He kept chanting to himself quietly and she could barely make out, "the sun, the moon, the truth" before he would groan and say it wasn't working. With a tender heart, Lydia tugged on his arm.
"Hey," she called softly and he turned back to her, "Find your anchor." Almost immediately as she said this, his eyes shifted back to normal.
"It's you." He murmured.
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Authors note:
Requested by: @Kxxdia
TBH I think if stiles was a werewolf everyone would think his anchor is Lydia but it would actually be the sheriff.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe