#lydiamarkin

“I must have misheard. What exactly did you tell him?” “I didn’t have a choice!” A look from Lydia was enough for him to correct himself. “Okay, I did. But you know how much I hate Jackson. He’s always so smug and confident and handsome.” Lydia smirked. “I forgot, are you listing off his flaws or his qualities? ” “That is off the point. I find plenty of people handsome. That doesn’t mean it’s okay for them to be condescending pieces of shit. God, I can still hear him say it. With those perfectly aligned teeth, ‘I’m a Porsche’ written all over his smug, handsome face.” “Yes Stiles, I get it, he’s handsome. I dated him, remember?” She pretended not to see how Stiles clenched his fists, storing that information for later. “That still doesn’t explain why you told him we were a couple.”

The wedding ceremony was everything Stiles had expected it to be: sophisticated and expensive-looking. Jackson and Ethan both looked great, and no matter how much he despised Jackson, he could see how happy they looked. He never got to know either of them very well and what’s more, they probably had changed over the years, but he could still see how much they loved each other. After the vows, the guests were guided into another room and invited to sit around circular tables covered with white linen. An exuberant bouquet made up of mostly purple flowers was placed in the center of each one.

Stiles was relieved to be seated with the pack during dinner. He didn’t have to pretend to be dating Lydia in front of them. He already had to act like he wasn’t in love with her, that was plenty of pretending, thank you. Besides, he wouldn’t have been able to fool any of them. He kept having to avoid Scott’s eyes, preferring to ignore the concerned expression he could discern in them.

The food was to die for. That was always the number one bonus of expensive weddings. Another advantage of this wedding in particular was that Stiles had managed to take a picture of a close-to-tears Scott during Danny’s speech, which had admittedly been very good. The perfect balance between touching and funny.

During the speech, there was a moment, you could say. While Danny spoke of best friends and soul mates, Stiles couldn’t stop himself from looking at Lydia. He found her staring back at him, eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite define.

During the evening, Stiles found himself second-guessing his every move. He usually put his hand on the small of Lydia’s back almost unconsciously, but tonight, everything felt different. Like it meant something more. He couldn’t help staring at her mouth when she pursed her lips. Somehow her hair looked shinier tonight. Her collarbone more enticing. Every time he touched her, he felt his skin burning seconds after.

The worst part was talking to the other guests, and having them say how they made such a great couple. Each time, Lydia would smile, completely unfazed. Sometimes she would even lean her head against his shoulder or squeeze his hand.

“So when’s the wedding for you two? You look like you were made for each other.”

“It’s a little too soon to talk about that.” Lydia answered gracefully.

She didn’t notice how Stiles looked away to stare resolutely at his shoes. Who was he kidding, she probably did notice. She was Lydia freaking Martin. Banshee and detective of the McCall pack. She didn’t say anything about it though.

After having a few drinks, Stiles felt himself relaxing. He and Lydia were sitting next to each other in one corner of the room, appreciating the calm of the moment. They weren’t speaking, nor looking at each other. Instead they were watching their friends dance in the middle of the room. Only after a while did Stiles notice he had been holding Lydia’s hand and rubbing it with his thumb. He stopped his movement for half a second, but it was enough for Lydia to let go as if she had just been burned. He waited, not daring to look at her. The silence just sounded hollow now. Sensing the moment had been broken, Stiles stood up, bowing dramatically and offering his arm.

“Shall we?” Lydia smiled, looking relieved. Stiles’ humor always managed to break the tension. Well, at least most of the time.

She took his proffered hand and stood up in turn. Instead of leading her to the center of the room where their friends were, like she had been expecting, Stiles stayed where they were and made her spin around. He danced in his usual goofy way, shaking his hips while raising his eyebrows suggestively. Lydia threw her head back to laugh. Stiles followed the movement with his eyes, feeling the irrepressible urge to kiss her neck.

When the music switched to a slower, classical piece, Stiles put his arms around her waist. Lydia pulled him close. She heard a quick intake of breath when she rested her head against his shoulder.

They swayed to the music, clinging to each other like it was their last dance, like it was the last time they could touch. Their breaths synced up. They slowed down with the song, stopping when it ended. Neither of them pulled back, until the next song started to play, a jazzy, upbeat piece which Stiles usually liked. Not in that moment.

He felt Lydia’s arms loosen around his shoulders, until they weren’t there anymore. He heard something about going outside for some fresh air, and then she was gone. Stiles found himself alone, numb to all the noise around him. He vaguely noticed his friends walking towards him, trying to distract him with ridiculous dance moves he usually would have been the one making.

He shook his head and the world came back. He danced with Malia and Kira, turning around until they were all dizzy. He tried to ignore the feeling clawing at his gut. As if sensing his inner turmoil, Scott leaned towards Stiles’ ear so his friend would hear him.

“You should go after her.”

Stiles found the strawberry blonde outside, sitting in the damp grass. That only made him worry more because only a very shaken Lydia would let her dress get damp. Her legs were bent and she had her arms around her knees. She looked so small like this. Most of the time, Stiles would forget how tiny Lydia really was. She had this way of filling up a room, of making him aware that she was there. He sat down next to her, putting his jacket over her shoulders. He didn’t say anything and instead started to tear up the grass absentmindedly with his right hand. She let her head fall down on his shoulder.

“I can’t do this, Stiles.”

“See Jackson? Don’t worry about that jerk. If you say so, we can leave right now, Lyds. Neither of us should drive but I can call us a cab and I’ll get our coats while you wait. You don’t even have to go back inside.”

Lydia smiled sadly.

“No Stiles. That’s not it.” The young man furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out what she meant. “I meant this.” She gestured at the space between them. “Pretending to be a couple.”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry if I did anything weird! I really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s just, I’ve been in love with you for so long, I forget what’s normal.”

“You.. what?” It must have been one of the first times Stiles had made Lydia Martin speechless. Her voice sounded higher than usual, breathless.

“I love you Lydia. Coming here with you and pretending to be a couple has shown me that I can’t pretend anymore. I need you to know. I know that’s selfish and I’m sorry. I also know I’m only saying this because I’m drunk, otherwise I would never be brave enough. But I do love you. I’ll give you as much time as you need but I will not let this stop us from being friends. You hear me? This will not…”

Stiles didn’t manage to finish his sentence, because suddenly Lydia Martin’s hands were on each side of his head, pulling him towards her and her mouth was on his, soft and warm and kissing him. She pulled back, keeping her eyes closed for several seconds, reminding him of another kiss, many years ago.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him.