ROAD TO SERENITY | stydia [✔️]

63 // the strays - sleeping with sirens

The boys left them after lunch and Stiles didn't know what to say. Lydia's birthday was tomorrow and he hadn't exactly bought her anything. He did have something planned and he hoped she would like it, but there was still something lacking – an actual birthday present.

As they walked around LA, chatting about things Stiles couldn't recall later, he kept thinking about what he could get her. He thought he knew her well enough to know what she'd want, but nothing came into his mind.

"I'm not used to this weather. My skin is boiling and I don't think I've ever sweat this much," he head Lydia say. "Toronto's warm. LA's hot. I don't like it."

Stiles laughed. "At least we never get to worry about snow."

"That's awful. Have you ever experienced snow?"

"Nope."

"Shit, Stiles," said Lydia, "that's horrible. You gotta come to Canada once, because throwing a snowball at someone's face and watching their clueless expressions being hit by a bunch of snow is one of the most satisfying feelings."

"Do I get to throw one at you?"

Lydia pretended to think for a moment. "Maybe. Depends."

"On what?"

"If you can aim."

"I can."

"Have you ever tried to throw anything at someone who's barely over five foot and has trained dancing?"

Stiles laughed again and Lydia looked at him in wonder. "I didn't know you were a dancer and I didn't know you were over five foot."

Playfully, Lydia smacking him and the back and pouted. She looked around, quickly dropping the act and crossing her arms on her chest. Stiles wondered how it was possible for someone like her to look so intimidating; she could've killed a person with a look.

"I wanna go to the beach," she said.

Stiles shrugged and walked over to her. "We can go, if you want, but it'd take us a lot of time since traffic's shit at this time of day."

"Damn. It's too hot for me here."

"Okay, how about we go to the Vallack Avenue park? There's a lake little further from where we had lunch yesterday and we can walk there."

Lydia frowned. "I didn't realize we were so close to it."

That caused Stiles to laugh, remembering yet once more that Lydia wasn't used to living in a city of LA's proportions. "We aren't," he said. "It'll take us about an hour of walk, but if we go with the Jeep, it'll take us even longer because of the traffic."

Realization dawned on Lydia's face, accompanied by a sigh. "Right. Okay, let's go."

The duo began walking in the direction they came from, quickly taking a turn and getting lost in the crowd. Stiles led her around the city, being both a friend and a tour guide at the same time. She was listening to him, he noticed, to every single word he said, soaking it in like it was a song. She even pointed at the places she recognized from pictures or wherever and Stiles thought it was adorable, because every time that'd happen she would get overly excited, like she's just found what she was looking for.

But they never got to their destination.

As it was hot outside—really hot, Stiles couldn't remember the last time it was like this—he took his shirt off, completely forgetting Lydia didn't know about the tattoo on his back. He'd never really talked about it and he was sure he'd never mentioned it on any of their videos – unlike Scott, who'd always talk about his new tattoos and post pictures on Instagram.

Lydia gasped at the sight. "You didn't tell you got a tattoo!"

Stiles looked at her with an embarrassed smile and nodded. The sudden awareness of being shirtless in front of Lydia washed over him and he began feeling a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, I've had it for about a year now."

"What does it mean?" she asked. "It's a wolf, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's . . . it's a bit complicated."

She smiled brightly at him. "So? I'm curious."

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. He knew he could always go for the simple version – he likes wolves. With Lydia, he didn't want that.

"Wolves are always in packs," he began explaining. "They all got their own roles, but they're not alone. That's how I feel with the boys, with my band and everything. Like it's exactly where I need to be. But there are times when—I don't know—when I don't feel like that. And I feel like I'm the lone wolf. But even then, the lone wolf gets on his own and survives. And wolves are social creatures, they need other people and sometimes I need to remind myself that I'm not alone."

For the first time, Lydia was speechless. She was looking ahead of her with a small smile dancing on her lips and Stiles knew he made the right choice.

"That's cool," she said; he voice was quiet. "Didn't people think the reason why you got it was weird?"

"I didn't tell 'em."

Lydia looked at him in wonder. "Why did you tell me?"

Having no real explanation—that would be appropriate for their stage of friendship—Stiles only shrugged.

"Thanks," she said softly.

The two walked in silence for a little while, both of them not exactly knowing what to say. He thought he was wrong, that telling her was a mistake – was it his fault? He didn't want to mess this up, he really didn't. And just as he was about to say something—apologize, make an excuse, something—Lydia spoke up.

"I want to get a tattoo."

He smiled at her. "What'd it be?"

"A circle," she said. "But not a closed one. It would be, like, a perfectly round eclipse with the end being just below the beginning. A circle, but not exactly, since circle doesn't have an end or a beginning."

"Sounds like you gave it a lot of thought."

"Yeah."

"What does it mean?"

She smiled and chuckled, putting a runaway strand behind her ear. "It's stupid."

"Hey, I just told you about my tattoo. It's fair."

"Fine." Lydia sighed and bumped him playfully. "It'd mean that everything's imperfect. Sometimes I get too – too wrapped up in thinking I have to be perfect that I forget that. And I just want to remind myself that it's okay not to be the best."

"That's a great reason to get a tattoo," Stiles said. "How about we do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get you that tattoo."

At first, Lydia wasn't too into the idea. But when Stiles reminded her that in just one day she'd turn eighteen, something in her broke free and she accepted the offer. The two got into the tattoo parlour that was just few minutes from where they had been, and it was where both Stiles and Scott had got their tattoos.

It was his birthday present to her, he'd told her. One thing she wanted for herself was what he thought he should give her.

She got the open circle tattooed on her right wrist. Stiles was with her the whole time and he was surprised to see she hardly even winced at the pain, but he assumed the Canadians were more-or-less resistant to more things than the Americans.

When it was over, Lydia was both happy and scared – mostly because she didn't know what would her mother's reaction be. But Stiles told her not to worry; she was on her own now.

She was with him.

[this is less crap than the other chapter. i hope so, at least. also, we haven't got many chapters left so i'm hoping i'll get to finish stiles and lydia's story before school begins.]