Lydia Martin personifies (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} eunoia) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} paradisolog, |
Lydia shook her head. "No, I don't...but I feel like I should..." she admitted, brow creasing slightly. "You know? I don't feel weird and I don't feel bad, but I feel bad that I don't feel bad," she sighed softly.
The thing was...the trigger to the reason he'd finally lost his cool about Malia centered around what Lydia perceived to be jealousy at the idea of not being able to sleep with whoever she wanted. ...and if Lydia suddenly became a reason that Isaac didn't want to sleep with her...well. That complicated things. A lot.
"We can't tell anybody," she said and she looked sorry because she felt sorry. It felt awful trying to tell Isaac that they would have to hide. "We can't..."
Lydia took a deep breath and sighed it out softly again. "I don't know where this," she said, finally letting her hand out of his hair to gesture at what little space was between them, "came from, and it doesn't matter how much you want it or I want it, we can't do this until the babies are born. It's too complicated, it's too much. You know? For both of us, it's just too complicated and we have to wait."
She paused, threading her fingers into his hair again as she looked him in the eye. "And I will wait. If you want to. But we can't do this now. If you think things are bad now, imagine...just imagine if people knew." If Malia did, or Stiles...although Lydia had a feeling that Stiles would take it a hell of a lot better than Malia would, since he seemed about as detached as he could get from her which, in his defense, was just as much her fault as his, she supposed.