Toxic Waste

21. I Really Do

"I will make you, Queen of everything you see... I'll put you on the map, I'll cure you of disease."

Lydia smiled and clapped along with everyone else as Stiles finished solo up on stage. With a grin, he thanked everyone and apologized that the rest of the band couldn't make it tonight before hopping into the crowd.
"Stiles!" Lydia called him over to her table. He looked surprised, shocked that she was here but none less melted at the way she spoke his name and joined her.

She pulled her out of her chair when she grabbed for her drink causing her to furrow her brows when he began to lead her towards the exit.
"No drinks tonight, Lyds." He smiled at her warmly. His hand moved down from her wrist until he was pulling her along by her fingers down the side walk. Lydia did the unexpected, it made him slow down momentarily, intertwining their fingers and he looked back at her.
"Friends." She emphasized. Nothing more. Yes, because just friends who have hooked up multiple times totally causally hold hands.

And for a long while they didn't talk, the sounds of the late night city the only thing to be heard. Stiles was still smiling at the fact that they were holding hands, but he tried to contain his excitement. He felt childish for liking such a notion so much. Leading her down road after road they came to a more sketchier part of town causing Lydia to grab onto Stiles' whole arm in protection.

They turned a corner, crossed the street and were greeted by a small park, abounded by the late hours of the night. Lydia smiled and lead her to the swing set where the princess took her throne without question.
"Third house from the end of the street." Stiles mumbled in her ear before giving the girl a push. She looked at the little brick house, blue paint chipped shutters, a white door, shingles barely hanging onto the roof.

She looked at him from over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow to which he nodded.  "Lived there all my life..." He smiles fondly at some of the memories that pop up in his head. Lydia can hear his voice soften, the chuckle under his breath and every time he pushed her forward, his touch burned through her shirt and into her skin.
"Elijah's cute." Lydia randomly blurts, half to distract herself from the very intimidating boy behind her and half to try and get a rise out of him.

Stiles chuckles and doesn't push her as hard, causing the swing to eventually fall into a gentle rock. "Yes, and he's also very much in a loving relationship with some kid named Daniel. Calls him Danny. It's pretty adorable."
"Daniel?" Lydia questions, stopping the movement of the swing completely so she could stand and look at him. Stiles nodded with another laugh at her confused face before it fell and she hung her head low. Stepping forward, he grabbed her wrist.
"Were you trying to make me jealous, Toots?" He asks lowly.

She nods with embarrassment before leaning into his chest without the least bit of shame. Friends my goddamn ass, Stiles thought as he wrapped his arms around her frame and buried his nose into the crook of her neck. She smelled sweet and poisonous like liquor and he knew her lips must've tasted the same way. His nose prodded at her skin as if telling her to say something. So she did.
"I like you..."
"Lydia–"
"No, I really do." She interrupts him, tears stinging in the back of her eyes but she blinks them back and tries not to think so much.

Stiles pulls back to see her face and she looks down. "If you like me, then why the hell are we still doing this? Why are we still friends?" He asks, voice stern yet somehow still mellow. She shakes her head, wanting to just rest against his chest and stay there forever and to not have this conversation.
"I-I don't know."

"You don't know?" He sounded angrier and Lydia shook her head silently. "Lydia, I've told you that I've liked you several times and you're standing in front of me like the fucking goddess you are and you don't fucking know?"
"No! No, I don't!" She had began to cry because she didn't understand what he was trying to do and he was mad at her and she didn't like it that way. "We're friends and I know that you make me feel good and I know that you could leave me and that you're mad at me!" She wept but she didn't know why.

The whole thing made no sense. He sighed and grabbed her in a hug again, her tears staining his shirt with his lips pressed to her hair. "I'm sorry I yelled... But I would never leave you." She had called them friends again even though both of them wanted more and both of them knew that. If she liked him and he liked her, why were they still friends?
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Authors note:

YOU KNOW WHAT GETS ME?
YOU KNOW WHAT MAKES ME HAVE A FANGIRL SPASM EVERY GODDAMN TIME IT HAPPENS?

IN SEASON 3A HEATHER TAKES STILES DOWN TO THE BASEMENT.
Heather: "have you never done it either?"
Stiles: "turned seventeen yet? No, no not yet."

STILES FRUCKING STILINSKI WITH HIS CLUMSY SARCASTIC ASS WAS ONLY SIXTEEN IN SEASON THREE.

STILES

FRICKEN

STILINSKI

WAS ONLY SIXTEEN WHEN HE WAS FREAKING POSSESSED BY A DAMN DEMON FROM SOME JAPANESE UNDERWORLD.

THIS MEANS WE CAN ALSO ASSUME EVEREYONE ELSE WAS SIXTEEN AT THE TIME.

THAT MEANS THAT LYDIA MARTIN WAS ONLY SIXTEEN WHEN HER BEST FRIEND DIED AND SHE FELT IT, SCOTT MCCALL WAS SIXTEEN WHEN HE LOST HIS FIRST LOVE AND ALLISON FRUCKING ARGENT WAS ONLY SIXTEEN WHEN SHE DIED AND STILES STILINSKI WAS SIXTEEN WHEN "HE" KILLED HER.

I

AM

SIXTEEN.

WTF THAT BLOWS MY MIND AND IDK WHY.
Comment, read, flip your lid.
-Sixteen year old.