Lydia Martin & OTA
In spite of the fact that she still wasn't feeling terribly up to actually appearing in public with her ever-growing middle, the new clothes that had come last Monday Christmas from Stiles and the actual protein in her diet after the thumbs up from Martha on fish and shellfish, Lydia was feeling a little better. She didn't intend to tell any stories or bother anyone, so much as just get out of the hut for a few hours and keep to herself. On Day twenty seven of her pregnancy, her stomach was still little more than a protruding pooch, but it was still enough to make her self-conscious. She'd tried on the clothes that had come for her, but she was still a little small to need the shorts, so she'd come out in a pair of soft pink Victoria's Secret yoga pants she'd gotten on her first haul, with PINK in white, block letters stamped across their backside, but she did indulge in the tank top from the most recent, because it actually pulled down over her middle without hiking back up again from the strain. She wasn't completely comfortable in her own skin, but she was more well-fed and well-rested thanks to the morale booster Stiles had given her the evening prior. She could use some fresh air.
Her hair was piled onto the top of her head in milkmaid braids that she'd kept in place with some very creative and strategic use of twigs and flowers because if she didn't have make up, the least she could do was try to look less than the hot mess she felt like all the time now. Lydia lowered herself down onto a small pile of logs that had probably been set aside for some specific task to be picked up on Monday morning by the construction crew and she kept to herself, watching the fire and sipping on a cup of Prenatal Nourishing tea from Derek as she watched people beginning to arrive.
She wanted this pregnancy to be over. Lydia had thought through everything...except for the things she hadn't had the foresight to consider: like the first three weeks of rocky start with Stiles or all the stress that would come naturally just from being in the same place with the people from home. She hadn't thought about how the hormonal shifts would actually affect her, even though she'd known that she would experience them. Lydia hadn't considered how the stupidest, tiniest things would send her into a rage or have her drowning in her own tears. She wished that she hadn't decided first equated best, because she didn't feel like the best at all. She just felt like a chubby girl with no makeup on an island full of people who were secretly judging her as they stared at her growing stomach and wondering why Arva had chosen such a spoiled, teenage brat to be a part of the project. Whether that was actually happening or not, Lydia had no idea, but the fact that Jackson had magically already known about her pregnancy and her presence on the island before she'd even popped up online where he could see to say something lent her the idea that people were talking about her behind her back...and while the old, not pregnant Lydia would've either embraced that as a sign that she was trendsetting and attention-worthy, this Lydia with a baby growing inside of her before she was mentally prepared for it to be a baby rather than just an idea, had become paranoid and depressed, instead.
So she sat alone and decided to people watch, one hand holding the cup that Stiles had made for her with Isaac's help and her other absently rubbing the little baby bump on her front and mentally giving herself until the cup of tea was gone before she would allow herself to disappear back into her shelter to hide for the night. People watching was fine. It felt like everyone else was watching her every move, so there shouldn't be anything wrong with her watching theirs for fifteen or twenty minutes, right? Right.