Lydia | Barry Allen [1]

Lydia Martin the Barista?

The strawberry blonde beauty had a bright future ahead of her. An early acceptance letter from Stanford and pretty much every other ivy league school. She was supposed to win a noble peace prize or at least that's was what Stiles had told her.

But Beacon Hills and the supernatural creatures it came with, took something from her.

Her best friend. Her former lover. Her strength. Her humanity.

Stiles. The spaztastic idiot who was in love with her since the third grade freaked when she said she needed time away from not only pack, but the town itself.

He hated to admit it, but he knew the smiles she put, were just a front. The supernatural foes they faced had drained all of them. Especially Lydia, the banshee, omen of death, the girl who hears voices in her head.
~

Cut to four years later and Lydia, the head turner and the brains was now a barista in Central City. The green-eyed girl who possessed a genius level IQ was serving coffee at Jitters.

Lydia didn't mind though. She's not winning a fields medal anytime soon, but she hadn't felt so content in many years.

Lydia likes the simplistic lifestyle she's been living while in the city. Her small apartment, with it's creaks, quirks and all. The noise of car alarms and loud voices outside her apartment window provided a weird comfort. And she especially enjoyed the supernatural free zone.

Sometimes she gets an overwhelming feeling that something is wrong, like she did when Allison died, but she chooses to ignore it. Not that she doesn't care, quite the opposite. But she knows if she follows the feeling she will only be led to another dead body.