|Lydia Martin is a screamer. (knewtoomuch) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2014-02-04 01:31:00
|Entry tags:||lydia martin, stiles stilinski|
Who: Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski
What: Reacting after TW tonight.
Where: Primarily in their apartment
When: Immediately following the episode
Status/Rating: In-progress and high for talk of violence and other TERRIBLE THINGS.
WARNING: TEEN WOLF SPOILERS
She could hardly breathe. The whole time that Lydia sat in her apartment with Stiles, clutching his forearm desperately, she was literally as still as a statue, afraid to move, afraid to adjust herself so that her leg would regain feeling and terrified of blinking. Weeks had gone by since the start of the show, and they were full of anxiety and panic. Stiles was still having nightmares, Lydia felt utterly helpless and now? Now she was losing hope.
The moment that the look in his eyes had changed from confusion and alarm to a sort of arrogance and determination, Lydia ran without looking back. The theory she had about kitsune and nogitsune was apparently the direction that this was taking, and she couldn't handle it. Her heart was racing by the time she made it outside of town and the emotions that culminated solely into hatred for what their lives were becoming and absolute terror for the boy she had left in the apartment ripped her apart into one prolonged, sorrow-filled scream.
Lydia wasn't entirely sure how long she was outside, screaming and crying into the darkness, but eventually her senses returned to her and she made her way back home. She was no help to anybody like this, despite her hardened heart telling her that she was allowed to be doing whatever she wanted. It was just so typical that Stiles would be targeted. The boy who would do anything to save his friends was in danger, and her heart was sinking faster and faster with every footstep. Because Lydia could deal with loss, but she couldn't deal with losing Stiles.
She entered their home slowly, her footsteps loud enough to announce her arrival, and her face stained with mascara and tear tracks. "Stiles?" she called out before turning the edge, her throat raw and filled with trepidation. "Stiles, are you home?"