Lydia's POV
We were sitting on his bed, the atmosphere between us could be cut with a knife, it's not bad just awkward. The funeral ended about an hour ago, we came straight back here and have been sitting like this ever since. Stiles is running the bed covers through his fingers and tutting.
"So..." I say, trying to start a conversation.
"I'm sorry, I'm not good at starting conversations" Stiles responds looking up at me.
"That's okay, me either." I laugh, "I see you like All Time Low?" I say pointing at the poster on his wall.
"They're good, but I only have the poster because my dad got it for me." I shuffle over closer to him, it's never been this difficult to talk to Stiles before, maybe it's because I finally admitted my feelings for him.
"Lydia...?" He asks taking my hands in his. "Does this mean we are, like, in a relationship"
"Technically we've always been in a relationship," I giggle, "but yes I am your girlfriend." I say kissing him gently on the cheek.
He blushes the colour of a ripe tomato, turning away to try and hide it. I pull his face back to face me and place my lips on his, “Don’t be so embarrassed.”
“I’m not, it’s just the only other time you’ve kissed me was when I was having a panic attack.” He stands up and walks over to the door, "You coming, we should get some food." I stand, rearrange my skirt and leave the room after him.
