Malia wasn't sure what to do, she wanted to hunt Stiles down, she wanted to make sure he was alright, but he didn't deserve that. Plus she knew her cousin was around, his smell twinged with Stiles, so Stiles with Derek...he was alright, she hoped.
As she stood there, jeans, short top, flannel, she felt her world become so heavy. Last night hurt in all possible ways, but she wasn't one of those girls who thieved on drama, she wanted to shake it off, find something to occupy her mind with.
Than the red-hair goddess of Lydia Martin appeared, her mannerism, her tone, it seemed like pity, with concern, but pity and this isn't what she wanted, not today.
As she stepped closer, her hand touched Malia's shoulder, she didn't move away or block it, she let the other woman touch her and than said, "I'm fine," it was the only way she knew how to deal with it, not deal with it.
It was clear she wasn't fine, but Malia didn't know how to express that without fit of rage or turning again, turning hurt so much that she was spent from even wanting to go that way right now.
"Can we just not talk about it?" she asked bluntly as she looked at her friend, "I just...I can't."