Eclipsed

Crescent Moon

(a/n) For those of you who know me, you know that I don't do author's notes at the beginning of chapters. The reason I'm breaking my typical style is that it has taken me SO LONG to write, edit, rewrite, and eventually publish. And I'd like to let you know that it is NOT because I have lost interest in this story. It is because I had lost the plot. After writing the last chapter, which had also taken me a while, I couldn't figure out how to keep the story going. While my original plan had been to keep switching between the Riverdale characters and the Teen Wolf characters, both shows write characters such as it is near to impossible to write a story as a non-screenwriter that seems authentic. Adding my own characters, such as the Valkyrie also meant more characters to develop, and it was a challenge. On top of everything, I also went through a really rough period with school and my family - I live on a different continent than most of my family and close family friends, and I find this can inspire anxiety and depression with me, and my parents don't really understand. So, I left it alone - circled back a couple times to try and write, but generally didn't find any inspiration for it or any of my other stories. Finally, after watching Newsies (twice), I finally understood something - my writers' block wasn't going to be solved by not writing. So, after a couple of (really) rough drafts, here I am, with version 2.0 of Eclipsed. 

(Lydia's POV)

The hallways were empty - lights flickered above me, but otherwise, everything was silent. It seemed commandeering the intercom had worked. Voices whispered in my head, snaking around until I could almost feel them behind my eyes. It was a recent development of my Banshee powers, and I still hadn't told Stiles. I had thought about texting Scott, but I knew that he would tell Stiles. After our fight against Monroe, after finding Alex, after Scott dating Malia, he had sworn no more lies. But the whispers were getting more insistent - so loud I was struggling to move forward. Despite the pain, they were saying something. Forsyth Pendleton Jones III.

Practically falling through the doors wasn't exactly the entrance I had planned, but only one of the people in the room reacted, muttering an "If one more person enters this room, we'll die from suffocation before anyone can shoot us." I didn't bother looking around to find out who it was, just struggled to my feet.

"I know what I look like. I promise that I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Lydia Martin, and none of you can leave until Agent Stilinski comes and gets us. If anyone of you thinks I'm lying, we're all going to die." The world was getting darker by the second - I could barely see the boy in the leather jacket with the snake emblem approach me.

"Ms. Martin?" He asked. It was like hearing someone speak underwater - the whispers were suffocatingly loud, and lights were swimming in my vision. And suddenly, the world slipped away from my fingertips, and everything went silent.

I was leaning against Stiles' old locker, waiting for him to show. "Mieczyslaw, you are ten minutes late." I scolded playfully, reaching up to kiss Stiles on the cheek.

"Sorry, Lyds. The office kept me late. They wanted to brief me on something." Stiles seemed distracted, drumming his fingers against my lower back as he led me through the crowded hallways. The five-year reunion of our high school class meant that only nine of us had actually returned - Stiles, Scott, Malia, Theo, Nolan, Liam, Corey, Mason, and myself. Corey, Mason, Nolan, and Liam hadn't actually graduated in our class, but no one seemed to mind as we began to talk, stories weaving through the air outside of Coach's office. Turning away from a heated argument with Liam about Stiles leaned down and whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine. "Want to go relive our moment in the boys' locker room?" He asked, taking my hand. It wasn't like Stiles to act this playful and flirty. Sure, he had his many goofball moments, but never like this. We were drawing further away from our friends, but I still didn't dare raise my voice above a whisper while we were still this close to our werewolf pack. 

"As much as I'd love to hook up with you in the locker room, I think you need to go home and have some sleep. The office has kept you all weird hours lately, and two new puppies at the same time on top of that..." I trailed off. Stiles knew I was right, and I could tell. "Look, I'll drop you off. Today's a Thursday, so your dad won't be home yet. If you want, I'll make you both some food before I find my way home. Reese and Riemann are at mine, so you don't have to worry about-" Stiles cut me off with a kiss, long, sweet, and tinged with cinnamon from the coffee he'd had earlier. "What was that for?" I asked, looking up from underneath my lashes to meet his whiskey eyes I could lose myself in for days. 

"I love you, you know that? But I can still drive Roscoe, Lyds. I'll just take you home, and then we'll figure out how to go from there." 

It was a quiet drive - Stiles was tired, and I was too busy taking in the scenery. I'd been working so much recently that I hadn't really been taking in the beauty of Beacon Hills blossoming again after a harsh winter. Suddenly, Stiles took a right, driving slowly down a street we hadn't been on together in years. "Stiles, why are we driving down here? And why are you pulling over?" The road we were on was where we had taken our second date - walking together and just talking. I had always stopped and admired both the architecture and the roses in one garden. We were parking in the driveway next to that garden. "Stiles, what the hell?" I gasped, placing a hand over my mouth. 

"Come on." He coaxed, helping me out of the car. "Welcome to our home, Lydia Martin." 

(a/n) ha here it is have fun with it see you in two weeks k ly bai