Stydia

Silence Speaks Better Than Words

Silence Speaks Better Than Words

Lydia

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Hydrogen Peroxide.

That's the only thing I could smell when I woke up. That terrible smell, the smell that penetrated my nostrils and burned my sense of smell. Funny how something made of nothing but water and oxygen can have such a pungent, strong, smell.

I haven't spoken yet. Not one word since I've woken up. It seems like my thoughts are trapped. Almost as if my words aren't connected to my thoughts themselves. It's been a few days, I can tell because he likes to tell me about everything. He doesn't want me to miss out.

And yet, he still hasn't told me yet how this has happened.

There's no condition for me yet, even though they think I may have a condition after what happened in the "incident" as they call it. But he's positive that he can get me back to normal. That my brain is just in a state of shock, and apparently there are studies that prove it.

Meanwhile, as he tries to stay hopeful, as he tries to stay sane for my benefit, I sit here, mute.

He blames himself.

He always blames himself.

Now a month has gone by.

Two months.

He refuses to leave the room, so they set up a cot for him in my room. He doesn't use it though. When they leave, he prefers to be with me in my bed, holding me. I like him better there too. I feel safe.

He eventually tells me what happened. He uses the key word 'mountain lion' attack. But I know exactly what he means.

Jackson.

Jackson is back from Europe. When he found out I was going out with Stiles...

He says that Jackson won't admit what he did to the police, which is why they filed me down as a 'mountain lion/wolf attack' since they have actually found some wolves.

He still blames himself though.

Says that he should've been there. Says that if he hadn't put me in danger, I wouldn't be in the hospital right now.

That I would be talking.

All I can do is shake my head. That's all I can do to try to prove to him that it's not his fault.

He says Jackson wont stop by the hospital. Because he doesn't want to face up to his mistakes. I'd rather he not come anyways. Him moving to Europe was one of the best things that happened to me. Coming back has literally made my life a living hell.

I've been here for almost three months now. And his updates on school seem to be the only thing I look forward to. He brings my homework with him after school.

I always finish it quickly and easily with nothing wrong, but not as quick as I used to. The doctors don't seem to understand because my speaking skills still haven't improved.

I like to listen to him talk.

Even when he's talking about the most simplest things.

Like how he thinks the new physics teacher has a toupee because it looks like there's a tag hanging off of his head.

Or how he thinks Mc Donald's is the best thing ever, especially the chicken nuggets, and curly fries are a short second.

Or how he wished that he never buzz cut his hair, because he thinks he would've spent a lot less time being thrown in dumpsters.

Or how he wonders how the world we live in can be so screwed up.

Stiles fights with the doctors a lot. They say I'll never speak again. That my brain can't take form simple speech anymore. Stiles doesn't believe that.

He says that he's seen improvement, especially considering that I finish all my homework when he's still not finished with his first page. I've been improving with every subject, and seem to be back to normal education wise.

School vacation week comes. He stays all day. We watch TV, rent movies, play board games, listen to music.

The doctors tell him that he'll have to leave eventually. That he'll have to let me go because I'm a lost cause.

He got so angry he almost broke a chair.

One day I caught him crying. I woke up and he was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands.

I didn't let him know that I saw him.

But seeing him cry, made me want to cry.

He always blames himself.

Today we sat on the bed. I sat there in his lap listening to him talk as he played with my hair.

The moonlight came streaming through the window, making designs on my bed.

"Ya know, I used to love when it was a full moon. Before all this supernatural stuff happened. I don't know, it just seemed so pretty." He says. I smile softly, nodding, knowing exactly what he means.

I look down and spot something shiny under my shirt. I reach into my shirt and pull out a chain from around my neck. I never noticed it before.

I sit up looking at it confused as I find a small object on the end of the chain. It looks like half of a heart.

Stiles looks down at the chain. "I forgot you had that. I'd gotten that for you a while ago. Don't you remember?" He says. I shake my head.

He smiles softly. "Here. Let me show you." He reaches into his pocket and takes out his keys, fishing through different key chains. He finally stops on one.

It's the other half.

He gently grabs the charm on my necklace before linking it with the other half on his key chain. I look down at it, confused, and he shows me the full heart. It has text on it.

I squint my eyes, trying to read the text and not knowingly, read it out loud.

"Im half a heart without you." I read out loud before smiling softly. When I look up at Stiles his eyes are wide as he pulls the keychain off of the necklace.

"Lydia... Lydia you spoke..." He says, almost not believing himself.

I look at him confused.

"I did?" I ask before realizing I had just spoken. I widen my eyes, a wide smile on my face.

"I did!"

Stiles quickly stands up standing me up with him, and pulls me into a tight hug before swinging me around. I giggle looking up at him as he stops, smiling down at me.

"You don't know how much I've missed your voice. It's not even funny how much I've missed it." He says. I smile up at him.

"We'll you helped me get it back Stiles. You- you were the only one that believed in me." I say with a smile.

He smiles wide before quickly pulling me into a kiss, holding both sides of my face. I smile into the kiss as he deepens it, rubbing his thumb softly over my cheek.

I pull back smiling at him and he smiles down at me.

I'm no longer mute.

No longer silent.

But in the silence, as we look at each other smiling before softly pressing our lips together once again, I realize something.

Sometimes, silence speaks better than words.

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