Stiles Stilinski (runswithwolves) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2013-11-17 16:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, !log, ~2013 november, ~25 points, ~~lydia martin (knewtoomuch), ~~stiles stilinski (notabominable) |
Who: Stiles and Lydia
What: A date. Or something like a date. Is it a date?
Where: A fancy little restaurant he found.
When: Sunday night.
Rating: Low probably!
Status: Ongoing/Incomplete.
He'd literally spent the entire weekend planning for tonight. He'd barely seen the others even though they were all living in one house that was filled to the brim with people -- some of whom he knew and others that he was still getting to know. He'd scoured the entire town looking for the right place to take Lydia for dinner, and he'd finally located one several blocks away. The issue was how they were going to get there. Why couldn't this place have brought his jeep along, too? That would've been nice.
Instead, he'd spent some of his money they'd given him upon arrival on renting a car. It was actually a nice car. It wasn't a Porsche (holy shit he wasn't Jackson Whitmore after all), but it was somewhat stylish at least. And it was currently parked in the driveway. He was already in it, sitting behind the wheel. And he was pretty sure he was on the verge of having a panic attack.
He was going out to dinner with Lydia Martin. The girl he'd been in love with since the third-frickin'-grade. He never thought it would actually happen. They'd been thrown together a lot over the last few months because of circumstances and the more time he'd spent with her, the more he found that he really did love her. Which a lot of people would probably laugh at him for -- because he was only seventeen and what did he know about love anyway? Except he wasn't exactly a normal seventeen year old. He knew about a lot of things that most seventeen year olds didn't. Like loss, and loyalty and death. He knew a lot about death. Way too much, really. And Lydia? She was a banshee. He was still trying to figure out exactly what that meant, and he was pretty sure she was still trying to figure it out, too.
This had to go well. It had to. Stiles gripped tightly onto the steering wheel for a moment, then laid his head against it. Who was he kidding? Even Scott was worried he'd mess this up. He probably would. He groaned and then sat up once more, looking down at his new clothes. He was wearing fancy dress clothes and a tie. Which never happened.
Stiles forced himself to hold his breath, growing still until he felt his heartbeat growing calm once more. He had to get himself under control and not spaz out in front of Lydia, even though she'd seen him spaz more than once. It just wasn't the impression he wanted to go for tonight. Tonight, he wanted to be smooth and charming. Like James Bond. Or Scott, even. Scott was smooth and charming when it came to Allison.
He could do this. He climbed out of the car and headed slowly for the front door to pick up Lydia for dinner.