Web of Deception: The Webbed Avenger

Chapter Ten: Brothers

Osborn Manor

The perfect way to wake up, Lydia concluded, was this: as she opened her eyes, she felt the fresh cool air brought in by the south-western winds, and faintly she could just hear the birds chirping from the rooftop across the street. If that wasn't the perfect way to wake up, there was the dimly lit room and how the light peeking in through the blinds lit her boyfriend up like a spotlight as he yet slumbered. Jackson was barely visible from the sun gazing on him, but Lydia could tell what he look like, every inch of his face, his chiseled jaw, the small stubble that he could never get rid of no matter what razor he used to shave.

Lydia had spent countless nights memorizing his features, as it was the first and last time she would ever see him. The world is constantly evolving, and so are the threats. Beings with superhuman abilities outside of our understanding are showing up more and more frequently, each with powers stronger than the last. Lydia knew that her life could end at any possible moment, and she wanted to be able to see someone she loved before she died, and that was why she memorized what Jackson looked like.

She got up, and went and took a greatly needed shower...

When she got out of the shower and got dressed, fixing her appearance to her liking, the first thing Lydia did when she finished was admire her reflection in the bathroom's full-length mirror, fabricated to perfection; or at least as near to it as the human appearance ever got. Lydia, proud of herself for looking amazing broke into a diamond grind, only to notice that there was cherry lipstick imprinted on her two front teeth, in which she quickly rolled her tongue over them to wipe away the stain. Thinking to herself she thought: I must look fabulous at all times.That mantra was something she simply told herself to get through the day.

Lydia had always felt better when she looked even better, ever since she was a little girl, her mother would dress her up all pretty in satin gowns and pink posies. When she had that happen, it always made her feel like a princess from one of the countless fairy tales her parents used to read to her when she was young, but as she was finally satisfied, she took a step back and patted down the beige mini-skirt she was wearing to get rid of a humiliating crease in the fabric. She looked to be on point, her eye-shadow glimmering like gold... as if it was powdered sunlight. Her cheeks were rosy as ever, and the classic red of her plump lips complimented her stark emerald eyes. Her strawberry blonde locks had been carefully curled to perfection, bouncing with every step she took. To any passing students or teachers, Lydia was the picture of poise and confidence.

However Lydia was the only one who could see the deep seated imperfections embedded in her features: the shadows under her eyes that she covered up with a large abundance of concealer, the fading scar just under her chin that she'd earned when she fell of her bicycle when she was seven and had to get stitches on her knee, and the fact she was riding that day with Stiles Stilinski outside made it a little bit less tense in a sense because he fainted when he saw the wound because he thought he could see her bone. The pallid hue of her skin that she veiled with all the blush, even the pumps she wore to make herself feel better about her midget-like height. Just the idea of Stiles being around made Lydia smile, even though she shouldn't have.

Stiles Stilinski didn't really cross Lydia's mind much, but during her time as his neighbor from early childhood, she could always think of a memory that made her feel warm inside. There were times where she wished she had gotten to know him better as a kid, but then she remembered how he never really made any effort either, besides the occasional glance when he had that big crush on her.

God, that crush was one of the few things that made Lydia laugh; he was so pathetic when he was stumbling over his words trying to talk to her. If nowadays was any indication as to how he was as a child, then someone could understand why Lydia never spoke to him. He could barely get five words out without him going quiet for a good three seconds before continuing and blushing. It was cute for a while, but after a while it just became, sad.