Multi-Fandom One-Shots Part 2

Eleven Blocks - Stydia (Teen Wolf)

11 blocks.

The exact route to Stiles' doorstep replayed itself in her brain as she daydreamed. Straight for 2 blocks past their favorite coffee shop. Turn left on the corner with the cute little boutique where he'd bought her the softest little black cardigan that went with every dress. She glanced over to her closet, looking at it hanging up on the rack closest to her. She wore it so much that she often just threw it on the metal bar as close to the door as she could, knowing she'd be wearing it within the next few days.

"Are you even listening anymore Lydia?" Jackson barked in frustration. She shook herself out of her trance, readjusting her sitting position on her bed. She looked at Jackson and gave a sympathetic look, her lips pursing.

"Of course I am," she said with bite in her tone, feigning upset that he would even question her. His face showed he didn't believe her, but he continued rambling on about his presentation he would have to give in his Power, Negotiation, and Conflict Resolution class Monday morning. She let out a silent sigh as she continued the journey in her mind. 6 blocks more before turning right just after that quaint mom and pop Thai restaurant he'd loved so much.

Jackson had come back to Beacon Hills during their last semester of their senior year of high school; just as Lydia had admitted to herself that she was head over heels with someone she'd never in a million years seen herself with. Jackson was the farthest thing from her mind at that time, and it would take her another two and a half years before she would let herself accept his apologies and calls. In the meantime, she was too busy settling into her college experience with her new found love.

It was only 3 more blocks until reaching Stiles' building, the red brick stone standing out against the grey and white concrete that surrounded the rest of the block, almost like a warmth radiating from the structure, inviting her in. She remembered the day they'd found his apartment vividly; it was close enough to hers for them to be able to see each other as much as they'd wanted without it being a hassle, but also far enough for her to feel independent like he knew she wanted to, despite the fact that she spent almost every night at his place.

She also remembered the last night in his room. She remembered the way the comforter on his bed scrunched up towards the pillow, with the corners a little off center. His desk covered in papers and books, pencils and pens used as bookmarks in spots he meant to get back to, and yellow, green, and red sticky notes sticking out of miscellaneous pages as some sort of study method. The room smelled of lavender candle that Lydia had lit earlier that evening, and take out Thai food they had just finished. She had a hard time recalling what even started their argument that night, but she could picture their last moments like a horror movie. The way his face flushed red with anger after she screamed that she didn't feel it was even worth being with him if they were going to argue over little things constantly; she didn't have time for this, she had a degree and career to pursue without him getting in the way. The way he flung his arm out, pointing to the door, adding that she could easily leave if she wanted, and the way she stomped out in the heat of the moment, ignoring his regretful calls of her name. The way the chilly air bit at her shoulders and ears after she left without grabbing her favorite red coat from his kitchen, and the way her eyes grew warm and irritated from her tears, her cheeks and nose chapped as she wiped the salty streams from her face almost every few seconds, determined not to let the public see her cry.

"What do you think?" Jackson asked finally, his arms open waiting for her response with anticipation in his eyes. She gave her best smile, nodding.

"You're going to do great," she said softly, nodding. He half smiled, content with the affirmation.

"Wanna grab some coffee?" he asked, reaching for his wallet off her vanity. She hummed an agreement as she stood from her bed, throwing her hair up in a neat top knot on the top of her head as she followed him out of the apartment and down the street to the coffee shop just 9 and a half blocks from Stiles' place.