' if you ever want to talk about stuff, i’m here. ' ( @steilnski )
an unlikely situation; an unlikely companion – Lydia doesn’t talk about her issues, perhaps because she’s seen first hand what happens when you do - at best, nobody listens. Perhaps, if she lets the voices consume her in silence as much as she lets most problems do so, then the screams will just become something natural. Truth of the matter is, even if she wanted to talk about Eichen House, words would simply not come out. And she prefers it that way – maybe if she drowns the memories with the voices, then one will overpower the other.
there once was a girl, she cried and she wailed …
there is a heavy dose of silence between them, Lydia remains simply frozen in place, and for the briefest second, her mind wanders off – the voices, the images, they drown any other thought within her mind; they are loud, and vivid, and she thinks, for a moment, that she can drown his request too if she tries long enough. But Stiles always, somehow, manages to make himself be heard in her head.
“ i’ll keep it in mind … ” she finally mumbles, tries her best to imprint a steady tone into her voice ( tries not to sound like her throat will crack, break into sobs after weeks and weeks and weeks of just pretending and crying into the darkness of her bedroom ). and turning on her heels, she intends to walk away – has even given a step or two forwards, she doesn’t even know how ( her body is acting on its own ), but when she finally stops on her tracks, her nails that once were immaculate but now have become dull and cracked dig into her palms, and she breathes – in and out.
“ maybe we can … uh, maybe we can talk over coffee or something … ” maybe she doesn’t want the visions to swallow her whole ( even if they will numb the memories of Eichen – which one is actually worse ? ). she turns back to Stiles, and her eyes are darkened and dulled by weeks of no sleep, “ i’d like that … ”
