She didn't know how this was supposed to work. Because no one had actually really loved her how he had. His hand would grab hers down the hall and she would practically flinch at the contact. But his smile was so sweet and his laughter echoed through her mind even after he had taken her home. She loved how concerned he was for her, how he had always been for her.
"No, no, no. We're taking Lydia out of the plan." He would argue with Scott at pack meetings, earning him an eye roll.
"You have a greater chance of getting hurt than she does." The werewolf would argue back.
"Exactly....so i would have a greater chance of NOT getting hurt if she stays here." Stiles smiles in her direction. And no one had ever loved her enough to protect her like that.
He was goofy as hell too, maybe at the most inconvenient of times, but it never failed to make her smile. They'd be watching a movie and Stiles would make a quirky remark about how the main characters only flaw was having chipped nail polish. Lydia would be thrown into a fit of laughter as he continued to point out how it was true until she was clutching her side. And she hadn't laughed like that in years. Because no one had ever loved her enough to try and make her laugh that hard.
When she was sad and blocked everyone else out, he was the one who climbed through her window at night. She would scream and cry for him to get out, leave her alone, but he did quite the opposite. Grabbing hold of her small frame in his tall one, he'd set them both on her bed. The boy would stroke her hair, kiss her head, whisper to her how everything would work out and everything would be fine, until she fell asleep. And no one had ever loved her enough to hold her like that.
Fights were the worst. It would start out as small bickering that eventually turned into actual yelling.
"I'm not delicate!" Lydia would almost always manage to fit into some argument. Once, it had been a heartbreakingly horrible fight. Lydia had stormed into her room in tears with Stiles close behind. She flung open drawers and threw his belongings at his chest. "Take all of your stuff and get out!" She shouted.
"Fine." He muttered, strutting forward before sweeping her off her feet, a surprised shriek escaping her. Take what was his, she had said.
Lydia smiled and began to cry into the crook of his neck. And no one had ever loved her like that.
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Authors note:
Short and I know I've used the "take what's yours and get out" thing before but I think that's super cute.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
