exhale || martin

trois

Metallic liquid dripped from her lips onto the white sheets, face pale and only a sad smile resting on her lips. "I'm okay..." She murmured, squeezing Scott's hand tightly. "I'm holding the hand of my first love..." Raven hair tumbled over the pillow, thin and messy from her battle with her illness. "The boy I'll always love...I love you, Scott." Slowly, her glassy onyx eyes began to shut, and her last breath escaped her lips. The last sound she heard was Lydia's screech...

Kira Yukimura screamed herself awake, the noise piercing the ears of none other then Lara Grace. The petite teenager shot upwards in bed before groaning in bed, feeling some of the lacerations on her back split wide open with the sudden movement. "Kira...?" She croaked, voice raspy and low from sleep and lack of water. Unfortunately, she had not formally met the apparent Kistune, but she was very appreciative that the girl had offered her home for Lara to recover in. No answer was received. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself out of the bed, wincing in pain. "Kira?" This time, her voice was more clear, but still somewhat raspy. Lara dragged herself from her bedroom for the next few weeks towards the other female's.

Her silk pajamas allowed her little warmth, and the chilly air from the hallway raised goosebumps on her arms. Her light-blue eyes were wide and filled with slight anxiety. She prayed silently that her host would be alright before gently pushing open the door. She was met with the sight of Kira clutching her light blue comforter to her chest, knuckles white with her grip. She seemed to look right through Lara, and that terrified her. "Kira, what happened to you?" She asked, moving herself to sit beside the girl on the bed.

"It...it was me....I should have died in her place." Kira whispered, eyes filled with regret and sorrow. That was when Lara realized what emotions were running through the Asian female. Guilt. It crushed her, weighed down her soul and made days longer, made it hard to breathe and hard to keep going. All Lara Grace knew to do was gently reach out and place her hand on Kira's cheek. "Kira...you cannot blame yourself anymore...please." Lara murmured, concern lilting her voice. Something seemed to flood out of her generous acquaintance - the guilt seemed to seep out of her heart.

Kira took a deep breath, nodding her head before laying back down. "Thank you, Lara..." She muttered before falling back into sleep. The brunette smiled softly before returning to her own bed, sliding under the sheets  and lying there awake the rest of the evening.

___________________________

Lydia Martin pulled her loose curls up into a perfectly-made bun, brushing a light pink blush over her cheeks and tinting her lips cherry red before stepping out of her room. She smoothed down her midnight-blue skirt and headed down to the kitchen. Her mother had left her a note written in half-assed cursive. It read; Lydia, please eat something this morning. I love you very much and I won't be home until around 11 tonight. Get some rest, baby.

The girl rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, crumbling up the note and throwing it away. She skipped breakfast and walked out of the house feeling just as empty as usual. Lydia hated going to school without Allison by her side. She hated watching everyone pretend everything was normal. Isaac was leaving for France in three days because he couldn't handle his grief and her loss any longer. Lydia wished she could leave too. But she had to stay, had to stay perfect and looking happy. So she approached Beacon Hills High School with a toss of her strawberry-blond curls and a rather fake grin on her lips.

Except when she pushed open the doors, a girl stood at Allison's locker.

Allison's locker. A locker nobody else should be allowed to touch. No one! Lydia frowned, high heels clicking against the tile as she stormed towards the person standing there. It wasn't just anyone, it was Lara Grace. The sick and injured girl. She adorned an oversized grey sweater that swallowed her frail frame and Lydia understood was worn to cover all the scars she'd recently received. Accompanying it were normal, skinny, blue jeans and black nike sneakers. It was the outfit of a girl who didn't want to be noticed. Why was she here at school? It was obvious she wasn't ready to be anywhere!

Or maybe she was, and Lydia just didn't want her at Allison's locker.

Lara turned, her locks of raven hair falling into her eyes as she narrowed her eyes curiously at Lydia. The female noticed that she didn't smile at her - she just gazed, as if there was something worth it there to be staring at. "This is Allison's locker." Lydia began, trying not to sound too hostile. Lara simply continued to stare, her cheeks so pale that the other girl assumed she was still quite ill. "And nobody should be using it." Sighing, the injured teenager pushed the door to the locker closed and only nodded before walking away. Lydia was in awe. She didn't even put up a fight, she just...went.

How interesting.

Stiles Stilinski stepped in front of Lydia, who's eyes still followed the back of the strange female, and gently touched her shoulder. "Hey, Lydia, Lara Grace is gonna come to school with Kira for awhile, okay? Kira's mom said that she needs to get used to people again, and that she seems tough enough to handle this. Are you alright with that?" Stiles, who always put everybody else before himself, was asking her if she was alright. She wasn't. But she wouldn't add to his guilt. She knew he blamed himself for the death of Allison, that he believed it was his fault. "I'm okay with that, Stiles." She offered him a weak smile, and he nodded with relief. "Alright, Lyds. I'll see you around." She couldn't blame him for wanting to leave her alone right now. She was a downer to be around, that was for sure.

So she held her head up high, nodded, and started on her path through another day without Allison Argent.