#marrishzone

Butthen again, the majority of the reason why she’s so afraid to act on herfeelings when she’s always been the one to make the move and get what she wantsis because in the dreary hours of the late night, she’s reminded of Jackson.Then Aiden. And finally, Allison. Three people that she had grown to care aboutthe most who were now either dead or as far away from her as possible. Her bestfriend is always the one to linger on her mind the longest, the one to bringthe most tears to her eyes and make her throat choke up as she cries into herpillow.

Lydiacan’t imagine going through the same thing over again if she ever confessed herfeelings to Jordan and then had to lose him too.

It’swhat scares her the most—losing another person that she loves the most.

**

“What’sup with you?”

Malia’svoice tears Lydia’s mindless gaze away from the page in her Calculus book asshe snaps up at the brunette with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

“Isthis about Parrish?”

Lydianever thought her face would burn up so easily at just the mere mention ofJordan, but here she is sitting in her room across from Malia with her cheeksflushed. “No. Of course not,” she lies,  and then going back to focusingon the equations in her textbook.

Thatmakes Malia frown. “Then why’s your heart beating so fast?”

Lydiasighs, “Malia, I thought we were here to study. Not question me about my lovelife.”

“So,I’m right then! You do like him.” A big smile flashes across thewerecoyote’s lips as if she’s just won the lottery and Lydia tries her best tosuccumb her own smile that’s twitching on the curve of her mouth.

Shefails miserably. “Alright, alright! I do like him...I like him a lot,actually.” It’s the first time she’s said those words out loud to someone, andshe never thought that someone would be Malia.

“Thenwhy don’t you just tell him?” She says it as if it’s the easiest thing to do,and part of Lydia wishes it was.

“Becauseevery time I tell someone I love them or every time I try to get close tosomeone, they always end up leaving me.” The words leave her lips sadlyas she looks out her window, where she watches an overcast shroud the town aswinter starts to set in. In just a few more months she’ll be graduating andthen spending her last summer in Beacon Hills before finally going off forcollege. She’ll keep in touch with everyone still of course, Malia, Stiles,Scott, Kira, and even Parrish.

Thatis, if her feelings for him don’t ruin the friendship she has with him rightnow. It’s the last thing she would want.

Shehears Malia get up from where she was sitting on her bed and walk towards her,hovering over her shoulder. “Lydia. You won’t lose Parrish. I think you mighthave forgotten, but that guy’s like nearly indestructible. Not to mention, fireproof.”

Lydiacan’t help but laugh. “You have a point. But, it’s just...What if he doesn’tlike me like that?” She bites her lower lip nervously, but on the inside he’salready laughing to herself about the whole situation because she can’tremember the last time she’s ever been so worked up over a guy before likethis. And she definitely never imagined herself confiding in Malia, of allpeople, about it.

Butthen again, Jordan wasn’t just any guy—He was different from every guy she’sever come across. He was sweet, nice, mature, dorky, and good. And sheneeds some of that, a little good in her life.

Maliasighs and sits across from her at the bay window. “Well, if that ends up beingthe case, I can hurt him for you if you want. I’m pretty sure I could takehim.”

Lydiarolls her eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. Hurting and torturing someone isn’texactly the best way to win their heart.”

Maliahuffs, “Okay, but no seriously, you should just tell him. What do you got tolose?”

Shethinks about it: Her ego, her pride, her streak of never being rejected by aguy before. But the last time Lydia ever cared about any of that, she wassixteen. She’s definitely not that type of girl anymore, and she sure as hellwasn’t sixteen.

**

It’s2 am and freezing as Lydia turns up the heat in her car, the hot air blastingthrough the vents and warming her up.

She’sbeen sitting in the driver's’ seat for the past fifteen minutes, still parkedon her street while contemplating whether or not to head over to Jordan’s. Sheknows by now that he got off his shift nearly twenty minutes ago and that he’sprobably back at his apartment. She can imagine him sitting on his couch out ofhis uniform and eating day old takeout food since he never has the time to makedinner anymore with his long hours at the station. Either that, or he passedout as soon as he got home, too tired to even change out of his uniform. It’sthe latter that makes her hesitate texting him, but in the end she finallydoes.

Lydia| 2:25 am

Areyou home?

Itdoesn’t take more than a minute for him to respond back:

Jordan| 2:26 am

Yeah,I’m home. Are you alright?

Histext can’t help but make her smile a little, because of course his firstthought is to make sure she’s okay.

Lydia| 2:28 am

I’mokay. I just need to talk to you. I’m coming over in five?

If ithad been anyone else, they would have probably told her that it was too late orto come by tomorrow when they weren’t sleeping, but no, not Jordan.

Jordan| 2:29 am

Sure.I’ll warm up some coffee. Americano Black?

Shesmiles more as she revs up the engine and shifts the gear from park, sendingoff one last text:

Lydia| 2:30 am

Always.

**

Theair outside is cold, but Jordan’s apartment is pleasantly warm like she’s usedto. He helps her shrug out of her coat with a smile like the gentleman he isbefore draping it on what he teases is his fancy coat hanger, when really it’sjust the back of one of his table chairs.

“Justin time. The coffee’s still hot,” he grins, not even having to tell her to getcomfortable as he fetches the mugs from the kitchen because there’s practicallya silent agreement between them that over the months they’ve spent together,his space has become her space as well.

Lydiacan feel the tips of her fingers buzzing with warmth as she curls up on herusual seat on the couch, her heart beating rapidly and making her grateful thatat least hellhounds can’t hear other people’s heartbeats like werewolves do.She’s used to staying with Jordan late into the night, since they used to spendevery other day sifting through pages and pages of the bestiary during thesummer. Now, instead of looking through mythology books, she was bringing himcoffee after his midnight shifts, at first using excuses that she can’t sleep,but now she doesn’t need one since they’ve both come to the conclusion thatthey enjoy each other’s company. There was a time when he used to tiptoe shylyaround her requests of wanting to spend time with him, but now he accepts themwith a shy boyish smile that Lydia finds far too cute.

Hergaze raises when Jordan steps back into the room, holding two piping hot mugs.“Americano black with two sugars just how you like it,” he says, his smilebright in his dimly lit apartment.

“Thanks.”She can’t help but smile back, because she’s learned that it’s nearlyimpossible to not smile around him.

Hesits next to her and hands her the mug, letting their fingers brush togetherand it sets a fire to Lydia’s skin. She only manages to take a sip before thenerves start taking over, making her jump into small talk to try and avoid thereason why she came her in the first place for as long as she can. Jordandoesn’t seem to mind at first, telling her about his day at her asking, but itdoesn’t take long for him pick up on her signs—the way her foot is tappingagainst her ankle, or how she can’t seem to stay still, and when her handsshake while trying to place the mug down on the coffee table, Jordan’s handimmediately covers hers so that she doesn’t end up spilling it burning herfingers.

“Woah,Lydia, are you okay?” There’s a worried expression across his face and hedoesn’t let go of her hand, and at first Lydia thinks her heart’s going toburst out of her chest but surprisingly, she feels strangely calm with her handin the warmth of his palm. Her nerves settle and she actually manages tobreathe freely for the first time since she’s been here.

“Don’tlet go,” she whispers, almost pleadingly. She thinks that it has to besomething to do with the banshee and the hellhound connection, how they’re bothdrawn to death and maybe they balance each other out, but she knows deep downthat it’s more than just that. She’s always known it.

“Iwon’t,” he murmurs as his fingers twine with hers, squeezing lightly, and it’sclose to the best feeling in the world, that is until she feels his thumb brushagainst her wrist in soothing motions. He doesn’t ask her again if she’s okay,because he knows that she’ll tell him when she’s ready.

Andwhen she feels like she can finally find the words on her tongue again, shedoes. “I’m….okay,” she starts, a smile strangely appearing on her lips. “It’sthe first time I’ve felt okay in a long time.” She doesn’t look up at him, justkeeps her gaze on their intertwined fingers even though she can feel hisattentive gaze on her. “And in fact, it’s the first time I’ve felt happy. Ican’t even remember the last time I’ve felt like that.” She thinks back tobeing surrounded by all her friends after being out of Eichen, includingJordan. She thinks about walking back into school for the first time arm linkedwith Malia’s, she thinks about studying with Stiles and Scott in the librarylike normal high school seniors. She thinks about Kira and how they havesleepovers now, talking about boys and what not . Then lastly, she thinks aboutJordan and how they’ve become so much closer in the past few months.

Itmakes her glance up at him finally, smiling a little wider. “And you’re a largereason for it. You make me so happy, Jordan.” She watches as her words make anexpression of awe cross his features before turning sheepish, while a softsmile spreads across his lips.

“Youmake me happy too, Lyds.” He says, blushing profusely now as he ducks his head,and Lydia can’t help but laugh softly.

“You’reso red.”

Thatonly makes him blush more as he mumbles, “The heater must be on too high.”

Shebites her lip to hold in her laughter. “I bet I can make you redder.”

Helooks back at her now, an expression across his face that reads too much to herlike he knows exactly what’s going to happen next. That after eight longmonths—it feels like so much longer to her—of dancing around a thin line, oftrying to find perfect moments amidst supernatural disasters, of never knowingwhether they would survive at the end of it all, and yet, here they were. Theyhad overcome and now, Lydia isn’t going to wait any longer.

Herfirst risk of the night was coming to his place. She takes her second risk ofthe night when she kisses him.

Jordanmakes a rough noise that sounds like half surprise and half bliss she assumesfrom the way his hands find their way down to her hips, while also soundingcompletely gorgeous to her ears as she smiles against his mouth, kissinghim harder. It doesn’t take long for him to reciprocate either, because beforeshe knows it she’s the one pleasantly gasping as she feels him gently deepenthe kiss, his hand coming up to caress her cheek and Lydia feels like meltingin his arms. It’s nothing like kissing Jackson or Aiden, or any other guy she’sever dated in her life. Kissing Jordan was nothing less than perfect.

Whenthey part for air, she leans her forehead against his, lips still so close thatthey’re breathing each other’s air. The genuine intimacy and warmth overwhelmsher as she finds herself finally saying the one thing that she’s been afraid tosay to him for so long.

“I likeyou, Jordan. I like you a lot,” she murmurs, looking into his eyes andnot knowing what to expect. But then she sees him smile warmly, leaning in tokiss her temple before gently pulling her into his arms.

Hewhispers against her hair, “I like you too, Lyds. I like you so much, more thanyou’ll ever know.”

Lydia and Parrish ended up having a lot of late night coffee rendezvous during the holiday break and even after Christmas.

Lydia still had school, even though she was only technically taking three classes and didn’t actually need any of them, except the Calculus 2 correspondence course Mr. Desmond had helped her arrange. The Beacon Hills police department was still short staffed and Parrish worked late into the night most of the week and two shifts on Wednesdays, so Wednesday and Thursday nights she’d bring him coffee. The Sheriff hadn’t ever actually put through Parrish’s resignation of course, just trashed his tires, but his schedule had stayed exhausting and monotonous since he’d been back.

Sheriff Stilinski might be a little too worn out on the supernatural in Beacon Hills to feel like making things easier on him yet.

It was almost Christmas, they’d both be leaving town to visit family soon, so she’d brought him a peppermint mocha instead of his usual just to see his face. He grimaced at the sweetness and she laughed, but he took another drink. “This is actually pretty good. I’ve never had one of these.”

“It’s basically mandatory to have one around the holidays.”  

“Good to know.” Some chatter about a minor wreck downtown came through his radio and he listened carefully before ignoring it. He wasn’t patrolling in the city tonight, still usually took the unincorporated parts of the county, the back roads and deserted parts of the town where supernatural issues were more likely to come up.

“It is easier now.” Parrish said in the gloom. The fog was heavy tonight and the breeze made it twitchy, wisps drifting over pavement.

“What is?”

“It’s easier to handle all this, knowing what I am, how it happened. Not knowing was definitely worse.”

Lydia sipped her tea, traced a drop of damp on the car window. “You never really told me about that,” and out of the corner of her eye he froze.

When she glanced over at him he was twisting his empty cup through his hands. “You don’t have to tell me anything, of course, just if you wanted to talk about it.”

She waited, watched him officially radio in his break time, tap his thumbs on the steering wheel and stare out at the fog.

“I went MIA for a few days, in Afghanistan. There was a bomb, one with a timer, there wasn’t time for the protective gear we usually had. I was working on it and I must have set it off. A few days later I managed to find a different patrol near the base. I had some burns on my side, some bad sunburn on my back, and I couldn’t remember much. Everyone said I must have gotten behind some rocks in time, hit my head. There was blood in my hair, but I didn’t actually have a head wound. It didn’t make sense, but the guys with me had seen the blast after I told them to take cover, and there’d been too much fire for them to get to me right then. When they went back I wasn’t there. Everyone just accepted the story. Made the reports make sense.”

There was something bitter in his voice. Lydia slowly reached for his hand, tucked her fingers into his palm and tugged to rest their hands on the seat next to her thigh. His fingers squeezed around hers tight.

“But I’d actually cut the wrong wire, blew myself up. And the hound moved in. It showed me what happened, in the Argent’s freezer.”

“I told it if it didn’t work with you it would lose,” she said quietly.

He looked at her, assessing like when he was turning a problem over in his head, but his thumb rubbed over her hand. “It listened. It never puts me out when it takes over anymore, not after that. And when I reach for it to do things it lets me. I can tell. It’s easier every time. And now that I know when and how it got in me, I do worry about some things less.”

“Then what’s bothering you Jordan?” because he was still clutching at her fingers but had turned his face away.

He huffed, glanced at her but looked away out the window before he spoke. “It must be part of what it needs in a host, someone who died on fire.  I’m here, I know I am, but I shouldn’t actually be alive.”

Lydia felt a horrid chill that had nothing to do with being a banshee. “Don’t say it like that.”

He sighed. “I don’t mean it like that Lydia, I’m happy I’m still here. I like my life. But I died and I remember it. And what if… maybe it only brought back things that were useful. How would I know if it left things that were really me dead? Nothing natural was going to save me, I remember that much. There wasn’t eno…”

He clenched his jaw shut but she still knew exactly what he’d been about to say. It hung in the air.

“If you weren’t here I’d be dead. Stiles would be dead too. And Chris Argent. We’d have lost Mason. And who knows whether we would have killed the beast yet, you trapped it for Scott. And how many more people would it have killed without the hound distracting it? And I like you now. I know you’re a good person now. Please don’t worry about that anymore.”

Parrish was staring at her again, eyes wide and rapt on her face like she’d done something amazing instead of making sure he just remembered the truth, so she curled a hand around his jaw and pulled him into a kiss.

Lydia always kissed him goodnight now, had been for a couple weeks, gentle and sweet and he always leaned into her touch with a smile, like all of this was still a wonderful and unexpected surprise.

Tonight he wrapped his hands around her ribs and clung to her, pulled her closer till she had one hand braced heavily against his chest and was kneeling up in the passenger’s seat over him. His eyes were closed tightly and she felt him whine faintly into her mouth. She curled her tongue over his and scratched her nails along the back of his neck.

He eventually pulled away and leaned his head down against her shoulder with a heavy sigh. The hound didn’t think like them, she knew that. It was its own entity. It wouldn’t have thought twice about showing Parrish what it had seen when it moved in, wouldn’t have considered or cared about it hurting him. But she was sorry it had. This was sort of her fault. Jordan’s hair was soft against her palms.

He’d still never kissed her first, but she’d get him to relax with her eventually. She wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

Not yet at least.