Just a memory (teenwolf fanfic)

14. LETTING IT GO

Lydia

She wanted to scream his name, call him, but she didn't. What would she say? Was there anything to say? No. Nothing.

  "Lydia", someone gasped behind her.

  She turned on her heels. "Jackson..."

  He looked angry, which somehow reminded her on the old, mean Jackson. When they just started dating, he was beautiful, like today. But he has changed. Everybody did.

  "What was that about?" he asked fiercely.

  Play it cool, Lydia. "About what?"

  "You tell me. You ran out of the car like the hell's behind you, and now I find you here crying over Stilinski."

  "I am not crying!" she yelled. "It's the rain." But she was crying. Stiles loved her. She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, scream, or all at once.

  Jackson didn't look convinced. "Whatever", he murmured.

  "Now can you please tell me why did you run?"

  "I was dizzy", she lied.

  He raised an eyebrow, but didn't push. "Okay, can you give me Allison's new number now?"

  She sighed heavily. "Come with me. Let me show you something.",

  They were walking in silence to her car a few minutes. She sat on the driver seat. When Jackson entered, she started the car. They were driving without talking for about ten minutes when she stopped he car. "We're here.",

  "Lydia", Jackson looked around, "Why are we on the graveyard?"

  She didn't answer. She just walked firmly to her friend's grave, not looking at it.

  "What-" he stopped as he saw the name on the ledger. "No-"

  He looked her, in shock. "What happened?"

  She waved her head. "I really don't want to talk about it."

  He seemed really crashed. "But-" he seemed to say something else, but he just close his mouth. "I'm sorry."

  A small, unnoticeable tear slipped down his cheek. Lydia hesitated for a moment, but hen she grabed his hand and squeezed it. Like Stiles did to her for million of times.

Stiles

How stupid do you have to be to think a girl like Lydia Martin would ever even like a guy like Stiles Stilinski, Stiles asked himself.

  Rain was getting heavier and heavier, darker and stronger. Perfect way to cover his tears. He ruined his friendship with Lydia, he ruined their relationship, he ruined everything. For what? She was kissing Jackson. So? That was none of his business. She could kiss whoever she wants, wherever and whenever she wants. None of his concern.

  He got into a small dead end. There was no one around, not like he cared. He pushed his back on the wall and slipped on the floor, head in his hands.

  What have I done? He didn't know the answer.

  When he would look at her he would see everything he'd ever wanted. But then he would look at himself and see nothing she deserves. It was painful when he wanted her and couldn't have. But it was more painful now he has lost her forever.

  "Lydia Martin, the girl of my dreams. And as unreal as they are", he whispered for himself.

   "Now, isn't that tragic", sarcastic voice said.

  Stiles rose to his feet. "Peter Hale. Again."

  Peter grinned with no joy. "Yes, that would be me."

  At that moment he looked so much like Malia, with the same stubborn, wild look in the eyes that glowed blue.

  "What do you want now?" Stiles asked annoyed, wanting to be alone.

  "The same thing I wanted last night we met when that stupid girl came," he growled the last part of sentence.

   "That so called 'stupid girl' happened to be your daughter", Stiles murmured, feeling an urge to defend Malia.

  "Yes, yes, lovely", Peter waved his hand. "Shall we?"

  "Have you suddenly turned british?"

  Peter just showed that sick, crazy grin again, saying nothing.

  "I repeat, what do you want?" Stiles said, irritated.

  "To kill you", the older man hissed. "To sacrifice you."

  Stiles shivered and felt goosebumps. But again, he thought, he had nothing to lose. Not now, at least.

  "Whatever. I have nothing to live for anyway", he realized he said it outloud the moment he ended the sentence. No one to live for, he silently corrected himself.

  "Melodramatic", Peter noticed. "Whatever. I'll end this quickly. Any last words?"

  Stiles waved his head no. But he thought: I love you, Lydia. You too, Scott. I'm doing this for you two.

  "First, I have to hurt so bad that you're nearly dead, but not quite. Then I'll need to take one plant growing on Her grave, and plant it on the place she died at. And I will then give your life as an offer and Allison Argent will rise again!" Peter seemed to be talking to himself.

  "Beautiful. Can you do it now?" Stiles tried to stop his voice from trembling.

  Peter drew out his claws. "Yes, I can."