transcendent ༜stiles stilinski༜ [1] (UNDER EDITING)

16| The Controlled

Lydia crosses her arm over her chest and glares at me as I try to reason with her. My phone buzzes persistently in my pocket.

"You're not going anywhere! I don't care how important it is!" She tells me.

"Fine!"

"Good," she smiles. "I'm going to the bathroom."

I give her a false smile and she rolls her eyes, walking away. I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket and answer it.

"Is Danny okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine but where are you?"

"Lydia's with me and honestly I think she just wants somebody to be with her. We've been so secretive. She just needs a friend. But I'll come as soon as I can alright?"

"Okay."

"What'd you do with Jackson?"

"We chained him in a van that I stole from the cops."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I hear a very angry cry.

"Stiles! McCall! I'm going to kill you!" Jackson screams.

"Good luck with that," I tell Stiles. "Yeah, I'll come when I can alright?"

"Yeah. Have you been looking in the beastiary? For something you can do for your, uh, condition?"

"I was looking but then Lydia got bored so we're at her house. But I'm really scared Stiles."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to let you die," he assures me.

"You can't guarantee that."

"We're going to save you, alright? You're going to stay here with me and you have to listen to my sarcastic ass.

I laugh. "Got it. See you later."

"Yeah."

He hangs up.

I sigh and put the phone back in my pocket. Lydia walks over and stand in front of me. This is one of the few times she's wearing flats and I actually stand above her... About two inches above her. She grabs my arm pulling me with her into her stylish looking closet.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you some of my clothes."

"You are what?"

She looks through the chic clothing and picks a boat load all up. She gives it to me. I lift the clothes with ease. I look at Lydia.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because it seems like there's nothing else I can do. So why not just save a girl from making a very poor fashion choice."

Lydia pushes me into the huge closet and closes the door. I look at all the dresses, skirts, jacket, and shirt in my hand.

This is too much clothes. This is too short. This is too revealing. These are too expensive looking.

I hear Lydia sigh outside the door.

"Just let me see the clothes on you," she tells me.

I nod, forgetting she can't see me. I strip down and try on a blue dress with a black leather jacket on it. I open the door so that Lydia can see.