Lydia's Shy (completed)

26. Last Chapter

Lydia died the day after her first dance.

He wore black to the funeral and didn't say a word, didn't shed a tear, didn't dare even speak her name. He couldn't remember it. But his ink was still on her skin when he got home, when he closed the bathroom door, when he filled the bath.

Only then did he finally allow himself to break. Because there was no girl to keep him floating. And he cried until the water turned cold as his heart.

And after that everything was a blur. Nothing really seemed important anymore. Basically because it wasn't. Only on Sunday did he emerge from his room. He passed by her door without a second glance, trudged downstairs with his bag over one shoulder, and told his dad he was okay with the most fake smile there ever was to ride his lips. He drove numbingly to Susan's and pretended everything was normal.

The coffee on the table was ice cold as if he hadn't touched it, simply because he hadn't. Stiles debated on whether or not to come to Susan's but a part of her still lived here and he was desperate to keep her alive even after her death.
"Scott said I'd find you here."
And for a moment, it sounded like her.

But as Malia slid into the booth across from him, his heart dropped because he saw a brunette instead of a soft strawberry blonde. Malia took note of his appearance instantly: dark circles under his eyes which were red and swollen already, gaze trained down at the table. He never looked at her.
"I heard what happened..." Malia tried. He didn't want her sympathy. He didn't want her to be here at all.

Stiles didn't want to talk and the easiest way to tell her that was by doing exactly that; not talking.

She didn't know what to say at this point and honestly contemplated leaving. But the whole point of this was that she felt horrible and was trying to be a better person.
"And I'm sorry." She says quietly. He didn't want it.

Malia bites the inside of her cheek and looks around the small cafe nervously. Until an idea sprung and she reaches out for him across the table, curling her fingers around his hand. It seems to immediately grab his attention.
"Lydia was an amazing person... She was–"
"Don't try and pretend like you knew her." Stiles scolds, yanking his hand out from under hers. Finally his eyes were on hers, an enraged look on his face yet he remained some what calm.

"Don't you dare come here and sit in her place and try and talk about how amazing she is...." He stops to correct himself. "Was."
Malia was in shock, her was mouth slightly hung open in fact. The boy stands without another word, snatching his keys from the table before storming off. Malia didn't even try to follow him. And he never went back to Susan's on a Sunday.

"Hey Dad." Stiles attempts to smile for his father but he ended up with a constipated look on his face. The man sighs at the dining room table, briefly glancing up at his son before looking back to his papers. Stiles shrugs off his jacket and throws his keys on the kitchen counter, sitting in a chair across from his father.

"How you feeling today?" The man asks while taking off his glasses for a break. The boy shakes his head. Then he bites his lip and bobs his knee up and down. It all seemed to come back to him, attacking him in this one instant and he brought a hand to his mouth to cover it.
"Did it hurt–?" He takes a deep breath before continuing. "Did it hurt this much wh-when Mom...?" And the boy broke, his father quickly rounding the table to hug Stiles. He accepted it without question, allowing himself to cry over the girl for only a second time.

He didn't go back to school for another day and some how word got around as to why. So when he did come back, the whole all seemed to stop and stare at him. There seemed to be a permanent intention in his cheek where his teeth would naw at the skin. Bet he kept his head up, walked to his locker like everyday.

"So I was talking to Scott the other day about–" and Allison, God bless the girl, talked about anything but Lydia unless he wanted to. And that made him feel at least a little better. As she was rambling on, Scott came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Yes that's right, they were officially a couple. No more Friday date nights or awkward kisses. And for once, Stiles actually smiled. In fact, he laughed.

This action made Allison laugh as well as she struggled to get the rest of her story out while Scott just stood there in embarrassment. It felt....normal.

As Stiles got home that afternoon with his backpack weighing down with geometry he'd no longer be able to figure out, his father (surprisingly) was on the couch. Usually Mr.Stilinski wasn't home but somehow Stiles knew it had to do with his well being.
"How was school?" The man asks as his son kicks off his shoes. He considers this question for a moment.

"Slightly less depressing than I thought it would be." Stiles answers with a small chuckle. Mr.Stilinski rolls his eyes with a smile and Stiles jogs upstairs. Past the first forbidden room. Past the second forbidden room as well and straight into his own. There he forgot about his school work, carelessly throwing his bag before falling into his bed and–OW! He had face planted directly against his notebook. His dictionary of wonderful words.

And there was nothing else to do so why the hell not? He skimmed through the pages until turning to the last few. The words that Lydia had written down.

Storge: an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship.

Eros: a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotypical bullshit.

Why was there another page? Stiles furrowed his brows, the paper wrinkling as he flipped to see a whole page full of words written in the same loopy handwriting.

Love: the boy with seven moles on his left cheek.

Stiles smiles and bites his tongue to keep from getting too worked up too soon. Because there, in the last pages of his dictionary, was the last part of Lydia Martin he would ever receive.

Love is no longer an emotion but a boy. A boy with seven moles on his left cheek. Whose lips were cherry and eyes a sweet caramel. Who carried my smile around in his pocket like some sort of treasure.

How do I even start this Stiles, when I cannot put into words how much I want to thank you? You gave me everything. And there is no other way to put it. I've never really thought about what love is until now but I don't really think it's what you feel. Maybe it's actually a person you know.

Love is the boy who gave me my first and last kiss. the boy who skipped a whole week of geometry to sleep on a hospital floor. Tried to make me laugh even when it hurt, kissed my lips though they taste like copper, broke down on a chair when my door was closed....yeah.... Melissa told me about that. And I've been thinking for a while now of how I wanted to say goodbye. And I know you're going to leave my room today with an uncertain smile and an "I'll be back tomorrow" even though we both knew you wouldn't.

Because dancing in this room tonight, we both felt it. And I hate to say this but, I no longer need you to keep me floating in the bath. I don't need you to bring me more books while I lie in bed. And love?

It's the most amazing thing I've ever had and I was so fortunate to have shared it with you. Because love is always a little shy at first but after that, it's a deathly kind of thing.

And hey, I promise...
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Authors note:

I've already accepted the fact that y'all are gonna kill me. And I can already see the comments:
•JEFF DAVIS
•WHY WHY WHY
•you hurt me in such away

And amongst all of that numerous death threats and proclamations of tears. BUT THIS CONCLUDES "Lydia's Shy"!! I hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it and stay tuned for what's next.

Like always, thank you guys SO SO SO MUCH for voting and commenting, literally making my day by telling me how sweet I am (I literally am not I just killed one of yalls favorite characters...) and how much you enjoy my writing!!
LOVE YOU ALL!!
-Chloe 💜😋