Neighboring (a Stydia story)[complete]

5. Stalker Status

Lydias pov:
Lord knows what that boy was doing all the time. A couple days had passed since Jesse was over there and it was usually just Stiles and his Aunt at the house because I think his dad is some sort of cop. What? I'm not a stalker or anything.

Allison had come over once or twice and I'd notice Stiles glancing at us through his window before drawing his shades. Over all, he was just like any other person in the neighborhood: you know who they are and that's that.

Well, at least I thought he was just any other neighbor. Until tonight. I was sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed, reading and what not, when I heard shouting coming from the Stilinski household. I set my book down, closing my blinds slightly so I could look through my window without Stiles seeing.

I can't decipher the shouts exactly but I can tell that it's mostly Stiles' father. Sure enough, Stiles storms into his room, Mr.Stilinski right behind him with a bottle of Jack in hand. His dad yells at him so Stiles turns around abruptly yelling right back. I watch, awestruck, and I know I should've looked away and minded my own business, but I was genuinely concerned for Stiles.

His father then takes his free hand and slams it across Stiles' face and I gasp. The yelling stops. The room is frozen and Mr.Stilinski's face softens, going to comfort his son but Stiles says something causing his father to trudge out of the room. Stiles rubs the cheek his dad slapped, wincing slightly before sitting on the edge of his bed and I can tell his crying.

What am I supposed to do? Ignore it and act like I didn't just hear or see anything? News flash: I'm not that type of person.
I pull up my shades completely, opening my window and chucking a pencil at his. He jumps slightly when the utensil clanks against the glass.

Taking the sleeve of his jacket, he wipes under his now puffy eyes before opening his window.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concern clear in my voice.
He sighs. "Yeah I'm fine." His smile is weak.

"Do you.... want to talk?" I ask, pausing slightly. He nods slowly and I give him an encouraging smile.
"Just-" he closes his eyes for a second," not about what just happened. Anything but that."

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"UNO BITCH!" I exclaim, throwing my last card onto the pile and Stiles lets out a noise of defeat. The small sections of roof outside both of our windows were a meer three or so feet apart. Stiles had found a plank of wood to cover the space and we both sat on the shingles of our separate houses, playing our fourth game of Uno. The sun had set a couple of hours ago but the light from our rooms faintly glowed outside the windows.

"Not so fast." Stiles puts down a draw four card and I groan before following the rules.
"I forgot to compliment you on your singing that one day." I say, thinking out my play. "Nice choice of song. Lustra, right?"
Stiles looks up from his cards. "Please tell me you're not one of those girls who pretends to even remotely know who Nirvana is just so they can be tumbler or whatever."

Stiles plays his hand.
"Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana. Album: Nevermind. Release date:
September twenty-third, 1991." I recite causing Stiles to look at me in disbelief.
"Never mind then." Stiles mutters and I take my turn. Wait a second.
"Did you just make a pun?" I chuckle and Stiles starts to laugh, nodding.

We continue our game in silence until Stiles wins and I take back my cards while he takes back his board. Instead of crawling back through our windows, we stay on the roofs, leaning back to stare at the now appearing stars.
"You know what I hate?" Stiles sighs , folding his arms behind his head.

"What?" I ask.
"This." He deadpans. Wow. Thanks. "I hate this life. This generation. I can't read a book without being called a nerd. I can't be silent without being called emo. I can't sit outside and do nothing without being called a hippie or gay. Labels are the work of the devil. Everyone fits a certain category though. Everyone." His voice is dreamlike.

I sit up slightly, leaning back on my elbows so I can watch as he speaks.
"What category do I fit into?" I ask quietly. He takes in a deep breath, thinking for a moment.

"You're different, Lydia. As creepy as it sounds, I've been watching you. And I see the real you. You read books instead of spending hours picking out the perfect outfit. You've watched the first episode of Star Wars so many times in a row I've lost count. And not all of them, just the first one...And I see you watch me leave."

My breath hitches at his words and he sits up, hugging his knees to his chest as his eyes meet the ground before continuing.
" I glance over my shoulder and you're sitting on your bed, watching me walk out of my room and you think I don't see you but I do. I catch you every time. I bet everyone sees you as this perfect, preppy, little high school girl but... I don't think you are."

There's a pause as I try to formulate words. How do I even respond to something like that? The words flowing smoothly out of his mouth as if he'd known me for a thousand years.
"I've never met anyone like you,
Stiles. You're different." I mumble. He looks up, eyes finally meeting mine.

"Different good or different bad?" He asks.
I stand, going over to my window and putting one leg in my room.
"I can't tell yet. I'm hoping it's good though." I say. He watches me climb back into my house, staying on the roof as I close the windows and close my curtains.

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Authors note:
Whew!!! Oh man I feel good about this chapter. They really bonded and I love it😍
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe