Lydia liked the color green. Not the green of seaweed fences on the beach or the green the sun created when it was bright making grass look almost yellow. She liked the green on his knuckles; the leaves splattered on his arms, the miniature forest embedded under his fingernails like charcoal after a hard day at work.
So she filled a notebook with green.
The girl hadn't told him (and he'd only seen her doodle a few times during class) but she had a notebook all of her own. Unlike his though, hers had blue lines instead of blank pages because she was afraid to admit her drawings were anymore than what he'd seen in class: doodles.
The bell rang, tearing her eyes finally from the long strokes against his skin that only his rolled up sleeves revealed. It had been a week since the mail encounter and they still hadn't had that talk. Maybe he was scared but there was no denying they were both avoiding it. Scott and Allison had concluded this was the longest they had spent with out constantly talking.
She hadn't even realized he was speaking to her.
"What?"
A grin spread across Stiles' face and he scratched the stubble on his jaw briefly. "I asked if you were going to swing by the cafe later?"
"Is it really Thursday?" She struggles to swallow and gives a short laugh.
"Yeah," he chuckles. "So I'll see you." It wasn't a question this time. And she no longer had a choice in the matter.
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There were three problems when she arrived.
1) the cafe was busy which meant he definitely did not intend on talking anytime soon.
2) her usual spot was occupied.
3) Malia's ass was the one occupying it.
Her heart dropped because not only were they not going to talk about the current situation but one of the reasons they hadn't spoken was currently sitting in her favorite chair. As if this place was dangerous and unfamiliar to her, Lydia tip toed quietly and shyly towards the counter where trouble awaited.
But instead she was created with a gasp and a hug and a "oh my gosh I love your shirt!". Malia seemed way too concerned about impressing her which was all too confusing. So she took a seat in the creaky and wobbly chair next to her, glancing down to Stiles at the cash register. He was busy, hadn't noticed she was here, so she took out her notebook from her purse and her favorite green pen.
It was probably a bad idea.
Stiles had finished his last customer around the time Lydia had drawn six trees in full detail. Malia had given up trying to make conversation around forty-five minutes ago, instead choosing to stay silent and watch the way she scribbled.
"I'm so sorry Lydia I–" Stiles' eyes caught on the drawings briefly before she slammed the notebook closed. "What's this?" Shit, she was caught.
But instead of reaching for the sketches, he grabbed her hand and revealed her wrist to him. Malia gasped at the fresh black ink there.
"Lyds, did you get a tattoo of my drawing?" He exclaimed. Lydia furrowed her brows and slumped.
"I was drunk, it was pretty!!" She groaned. Yes, there on her left wrist was the parenthesis half sun looking thing, embedded in her skin forever.
"When did you get it?" He chuckles. She couldn't quite read his expression. Stiles was smiling and he kept on turning her arm over in his hand as if the tattoo would magically vanish at any moment.
"The night that we–" Lydia cut herself short, a chill running down her spine and radiating through her bones. She could feel the heat of his fingers transferring to her skin.
The way Stiles looked up at her was something she was sure she'd never forget; it was one that begged her not to continue.
"The night we went to the club with Scott and Allison..." She finished, looking at Malia from the corner of her eye. She was too busy looking at the drinks to even remotely be caring about what they were saying. "I think I'll just go." Lydia mumbles, pushing her belongings into her purse. He didn't even argue, simply nodded and allowed her to leave.
And that's what hurt the most. She was losing her best friend and she knew it, like hell she knew it.
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Authors note:
Double update. I'm feeling generous.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
YOU ARE READING
Me Too (completed)
Fanfiction"Our moms were best friends before mine died, we used to take freaking bubble baths together when we were three."
