Wolfsblood

Chapter 5

Thoughts of the vampire in her room ran through Lydia's mind throughout the next day. The sheer fact that she was a vampire - something Lydia hadn't thought existed although it made sense considering the sheer population of werewolves in Beacon Hills - and she got the sense Eve was older than she looked. Much older. The way she carried herself, the confidence in her voice when she talked over the phone to Derek - one of the most intimidating people Lydia had ever met - as if he was a child, it all went to explain Eve was more than she let on. Lydia felt hopelessly useless without all of the facts, and the vampiress's calm promise that she would hurt Lydia if Derek didn't comply was plaguing the back of her mind.

Then there was Derek. Hearing his voice on the phone last night, for however short a period of time, had been so wonderful. His gruff voice, asking her if she was okay, and the brief tone of emotion she'd heard when he'd said her name. She'd been so overcome in the moment she hadn't examined it much, but she'd been thinking about it ceaselessly since she'd awoken that morning. She didn't dare hope he still loved her - she had hurt him too badly to allow herself the benefit of believing he could forgive her - but she wouldn't hide how desperately she still loved him.

But if he wanted her to move on and leave him alone, she would. She would do anything for him.

Looking down at her belly, she ran her hands gently over its round surface, smiling slightly as she felt the baby kick at her palms. A happy tear rolled out of her eye and she rose to gather her things to go to school.

Opening the front door to her house, she stepped back in surprise when Stiles appeared on the front step.

"Stiles! What are you doing here?" she asked, looking at the time and realizing they only had thirty minutes until school started.

He glanced at her in that characteristically high-spirited way of his, his eyes flitting to her belly where her hands still subconsciously lay, perfectly outlining her pregnancy. She felt her cheeks grow red, knowing he already knew when he looked back up at her, that pain in his eyes she'd hoped never to see.

"I heard..." he began, forcing a smile and shifting his weight. "I..."

He shook his head, looking away from her and gathering himself so he could continue. When he looked back at her, there was a flash of sadness over his brown eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

She knew this would happen; she'd been trying to avoid it. "I didn't want to hurt you. I knew how you felt about me, and I thought..."

"You thought wrong," he corrected her, gently. "We're friends, Lydia. Friends first. Just because I've been enamored with you since third grade doesn't mean we're not friends. You didn't tell me because you thought I wouldn't be able to handle it, and that hurts worse than not knowing."

"I didn't think you wouldn't be able to handle it," she countered, defensively, "I didn't want you to have to handle it. It's my problem! And, yes, I knew you knowing would only hurt you. I can't hurt anyone anymore than I already have."

Stiles shook his head, pursing his lips in exasperation. He paused for a moment before answering her. "You don't love me, and you won't. I get it. I'm okay with that. I'm a big boy, and I'm moving on. But I'm still your friend." His brown eyes were sincere, watching her like the sweet puppy dog he was.

"I do love you, Stiles, just not like that. You're a support system I don't deserve," she answered honestly, her pregnancy hormones making her sappy and tearful as she looked up at him. She honestly did care about him, and sometimes she thought he was a much better friend to her than Allison was.

"I don't want you to love me like that, Lydia. It's not how you feel, and it wouldn't be you. I want you the way you are. I just want you to trust me enough, to respect me enough, to know you can tell me anything without hurting my feelings," he responded truthfully.