Me Too (completed)

Chapter fifteen

She had filled up two notebooks with green ink by the time she saw him again and frankly she'd grown tired of counting how many times that girls car had been in his driveway. Almost two weeks since the last time she'd been with the boy and Scott had concluded this was definitely the longest he'd seen them apart. Two weeks of awkward one sided conversations that lasted mere minutes.

So she was fairly surprised to find him on her doorstep after that Thursday night. It was dark and she was already wrapped in one of her favorite blankets, her mother working late so a comedy-movie marathon ensued. Groaning when the doorbell rang, Lydia stumbled from the couch in the low lighting and to the door. Her eyes widened and her first thought was, shit I'm not wearing pants. Stiles smiled. Did he think they were okay? "Hey." Apparently he did. Lydia licked her lips and studied him momentarily. Still goddamn irresistible and if it had been anyone else she probably would've slammed the door in his face.
"You have paint on your cheek." Was all she said before allowing him to step inside. He chuckles and begins wiping at it blindly.

She felt herself blush though her back was turned to him, draping her blanket across the back of a love seat and thanking herself she'd worn a shirt long enough to cover her lacey underwear. Furrowing her brows, she began to over analyze things, feeling anger beginning to swell in her stomach. She had texted him, she'd tried to make conversation with him in the halls, but every time there was always one interjection; Malia. Feeling like a child, Lydia held her breath and tried not to get jealous as she opened the fridge to retrieve anything as a distraction.
"Did I get it?" He asked, walking towards where she stood in the kitchen while turning his head so his cheek was displayed. She looks over her shoulder. Wait. Why was he here?

"No. let me." Lydia gestures for him to come forward and he does so willingly. Her tongue darts out from the corner of her lips, thoughts growing again causing the pit in her stomach to be lit a flame. It was always about Malia with him and normally she could respect that but this wasn't the first time he'd done it.

When he dated the girl before, Lydia became a third party. She blamed it on the fact that he didn't really know anything; first girlfriend, what the hell is a third wheel. But I guess Malia must have said something because eventually Stiles drifted away.

Lydia broke from her thoughts when a grin stretched across his face. She gave him a questioning look.
"You've been trying to get paint off of my cheek for three minutes..." He basically laughed. Shit had she really blanked out for that long? So she stopped rubbing at the spot with her thumb but kept her hand cradling his face. The boy was gorgeous, a masterpiece, something he'd painted in blue and hidden under his bed.

His smile slowly faded as he caught her staring. It was inevitable. This was inevitable. Lydia leaned forwards and caught his lips between her own, practically dying because kissing him was so much better when she wasn't drunk. A little noise of appreciation left the back of Stiles' throat, his hands pulling her closer at the waist. But he broke off with a heavy breath. "t-that was good." Stiles cleared his throat and looked down at her. "And you're not wearing pants."

Lydia nodded and pulled him back in quickly, desperate for his lips against her own. Shit what was she doing? This is my best friend, he backed her against the counter. this is the boy I've– he moaned slightly, changing her thoughts completely; fuck it. He seemed to be thinking the exact same thing, grabbing her thighs and lifting her up onto the marble countertop.

Lydia smiled against him and tucked her hands behind his head. Her fingers danced with the shorter hairs towards his neck, his thumbs beginning to create circles and swirls in her skin. But he broke away. Again. Shit, shit, shit. His caramel eyes turned to a shade of dark chocolate, leaving her own to look down instead. Everything was beginning to cool down as his hands moved and began to rub up and down on her arms. He sighed and she wilted.

"It's Malia, huh?" She whispered because saying it normally was a little too much like confirming it. Stiles was avoiding eye contact.
"Lyds..." And that was all the convincing she needed. Slipping down from the counter and past him she stormed into the living room.
"You should go, she's probably hiding under your bed." Lydia all but spat, leaning against the couch and crossing her arms.

Sighing, Stiles crossed his arms as well but stayed a good ten feet away.
"Don't be that way."
"Why not?" She was growling now.
"What's wrong with you?" He was genuinely confused. Lydia never acted like this for as long as he's known her and he'd known her forever.
"Me? What about you! Stiles you promised me that you wouldn't forget about me if you two got back together and that's exactly what you did."

Stiles cursed under his breath, shook his head and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out because he knew he was wrong. So he did the only thing he could think of in the heat of the moment; he tried to leave. He opened the door and had one foot out but hesitated when she spoke.
"Of course, back to the not caring." Lydia's voice wavered a little.

And if he hadn't been mad before, now he was furious. Slamming the front door he avoided space at all and went straight to the girl, so close her perfume began to cling to his shirt.
"Don't you dare say that to me Lydia Martin, I put you first. I always fucking put you first. I was bleeding out on that goddamn bathroom floor and all I wanted to do was call you and make sure you had a good day so don't you dare say that I don't care about you. that's being so fucking selfish." His tone wasn't a yell but it wasn't soft and caring either. It was hard as stone, each word emphasizing the fact that even if he hadn't loved her in that way he still loved her as much as he was able.

He loomed over her, steaming like some murderous beast, so tall that she had to lift her chin to look him in the eye. She let out half a sob mixed with the breath she'd been holding in and Stiles immediately felt guilt. He cursed and relaxed, pulling her into his chest as tears flowed down her pretty face. She was too beautiful to be crying and it wasn't even full on sobbing; It was the type of ugly cry where you're laughing and attempting to stop the tears and your throat burns all simultaneously so it feels like you're choking.

"Oh, shit Lyds it's not you."
"Do you like me?" She managed to mumble against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt and wetting his chest.
He thought. "I–"
"Stiles, if you tell me right here, right now that you don't like me, I'll let you go..." Lydia pulled back from his chest and looked at him with pathetic little eyes.

The corner of his mouth curled ever so slightly and he used his thumbs to wipe drying tears from her cheeks. It was dumb to ask, she already knew the answer.
"Hey, look at me." She avoided his gaze so he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to turn her face. "I'll get back to you on that. I promise I'll tell you but right now I'm so confused I couldn't spell my own name." He laughed causing her to grin. "There's my smile."

So he kissed the top of her head, called Allison to come to the girls house and only left when her headlights flashed through the front windows. He promised. He promised.
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Authors note:

Was gonna wait until tomorrow but I love y'all too much. (You're welcome)
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe