Lydia knew that she was beautiful; her popularity at Beacon Hills High wasn't because of her personable presence seeing as she generally was a callous bitch to those she disliked. She didn't feel the need to pretend on behalf of others, but Lawrence was different. There were her friends, both those from home and here and those who actually knew her track record for her attitude. It was disconcerting at the absolute least. But there was something different in the way that Armand looked at her. It was never an objectifying look, but more one that held a certain amount of awe and reverence. Getting used to it would be pretty nice and potentially catastrophic later on.
"You don't have to tell me anything you're uncomfortable sharing," she said immediately, standing to join him near the stove. "Whatever happened doesn't change the way I feel about you. You know that, right?" For a fleeting moment, Lydia panicked. What if he didn't know that?
"But I'm listening," she told him sincerely, hopping on the counter to look in his eyes. "Tell me about it. Don't leave a single detail out."