Strawberry Blonde

Food

Stiles woke up to the sound of arguing. As always, Lydia and Malia had to argue every five seconds, almost as if it were second nature to them. For a few months it seemed like they could be friends... Like they were close. But it was clear as day to see that they really did not get along well.

Stiles sat up and put his head in his hands, huffing at their loud bickering before standing up, running his hand through his messy hair. He walked over to the kitchen, which was about two steps away from the living room since the space was so open and large.

Malia looked over at Stiles as she sat at the island and Lydia didn't bother to look at him, cooking pancakes. It didn't shock Stiles at all that Lydia was cooking, since the extent of Malia's cooking was cereal in a bowl, ordering Pizza (a skill she had learned from Stiles) and raw deer. But he noticed, Lydia wasn't avoiding eye contact because she was focused on cooking. It was something else. The room grew silent, their bickering ending as Stiles entered the room.

"What?..." He asked, looking from Lydia to Malia.

"Nothing." Malia mumbled, and Lydia put pancakes on plates, putting one plate in front of Malia and putting one on the edge of the counter for Stiles, still not looking up from her griddle. Stiles sat down slowly next to Malia with his pancakes, glancing for Malia to Lydia again, enjoying the quiet for a bit before realizing that the quiet must mean something is extremely wrong. He sighed, putting down his fork.

"Okay. Whats wrong, for real?" He asked. Lydia scoffed before turning off the stove and rinsing the batter off of the pan.

"Oh nothing. Just a lack of trust apparently..." Lydia mumbled under her breath. Malia looked up, staring daggers into the back of Lydia's head, and as soon as Lydia spoke, Stiles knew exactly what she was referring to. Thats why Stiles hadn't slept with Malia the night before, she was being extremely ridiculous, accusing Stiles of being in love with Lydia. Of course Stiles cared about Lydia, he'd do anything for her. But it was different now. They were different people now. Malia must have accused Lydia of doing something with him, he was positive of it.

Stiles nodded, laughing softly before standing up and walking to the sink, washing his plate besides Lydia. Malia scoffed, angry for some reason or another and stood up, storming out of the room. Lydia let out a breath of somewhat relief, but still didn't look up at Stiles, finishing washing everything and putting them back where they belong.

"I can't wait for Scott and Kira to come. At least Kira will talk to me instead of staring daggers into my head." Lydia said. Stiles scrunched his eyebrows together, looking at Lydia.

"Hey. I talk to you." He said, with fake offense as he put his clean dish away in a cupboard. She rolled her eyes laughing.

"No you don't. You either zone out, you sleep, or you make some random sarcastic comment. That doesn't count." Lydia said before walking into the hallway and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Stiles kept his eyebrows knit together.

"But my sarcastic comments are my best feature." He said before sighing and walking in to the living room.

He sat on the couch that Lydia had slept on and took the remote off of the coffee table, about to turn the tv on when he realized something.

There were marks on the front of the couch that looked like fingers being dug into the cushion, like a sign of struggle, fingers that were pressed into the side of the couch over and over for hours.

Why is that there?...
What is Lydia struggling with?
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Authors note:
Hey guys!!! If you got here from "Out of my Mind" Hello! If not.... Hello anyways!

This is kind of a filler chapter sorry <3.  I hope you're liking this story so far, I have a lot of ideas for it.

Please comment for requests or any other things.

-Sarcastic_Stiles