#telekneticben

@telekneticben​ asked; “you need to run.”

It was in the face of a battle that Gemma felt truly alive. The rush of adrenaline as she pulled the trigger was the best part of it all. Standing behind cover. 'You need to run.' How many more times would she hear that phrase from an asshole who thought she could not fight. Gemma scoffed, the typical man in action. Why do they think she could not hold her own in a fight? Gemma had been to hell and back on multiple occasions. And, when death seemed to grasp her, she always managed to escape. Raising a brow, she cocked her gun, “why would I fucking run from this shit? I love the fight.” She teased and looked around, “so, uh, where is this reason that I should ‘run’?”

Lydia had been resting her head on his chest - they had just had sex but that wasn't a new thing in their relationship. Somewhere between being on the run and being stuck in an RV this thing started between them. He was kind to her, and he could give her this look - like pure sunshine but it was rare. Which made sense, the world had been cruel to him. Somewhere in between kisses and touches she had fallen in love with him. The banshee just didn't know how to tell him.

She lifted her head - green eyes meeting brown ones. "And, is that okay? Is it okay to love you?"

Lydia looked over at him with a lazy smile. "Is that a promise, Mr. Winters?” she asked. “Mrs. Lydia Winters -- it sounds pretty, I could get used to it.” When did the fear of being on the run subside and now - this RV felt like a little bubble she didn’t want to leave. 

Lydia looked at him, confused and hurt by the statement. They had been living like this for almost six months now. They fell into patterns, sleeping with her head on his chest. Of course she fucking cared but it is hard to love some one who had been through as much as Ben had.

The banshee does not say a word, closes the gap between them and presses a tender kiss to his lips, trying to show him that she cares. She cares so much that it scares her some times.

[ music ]   -   for my muse to be unable to sing/hear music until they meet your muse.

Lydia hated the radio. An invention used purely to torture the ones in the world who had yet to meet their soulmate. Of course every car came pre-installed because life was made for the people who had  found love.

She thought she would hear music when she found Jackson, but all that left was heartbreak and a complex about trying to appear smaller for a man. Then there was Aiden. He was so happy when he started to hear music after meeting her. Though the dulcet tones of music never reached her ears. Then, when he passed - she was glad that he didn’t bring music into her life. She and Stiles both lied to each other. Telling the other that they could hear music when they just really wanted to but wanting only gets you so far. 

Maybe the red head was a sucker for believing that it meant something. Maybe Stiles or Jackson could have been good enough. Her parents were soul mates and they still ended up destroying each other. Who needed music anyway.

It was an autumn day when she was walking Prada. Her dog had been particularly yappy which was distracting her from her studying. Lydia isn’t paying that much attention - she definitely didn’t notice the man in front of her until she bumped into him. 

“I am so sorry,” she mumbled, trying to detangle the lead as Prada wrapped herself around the stranger. 

One for the money, two for the show I love you, honey I'm ready, I'm ready to go