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She spends the drive to the hospital watching him, studying him. Logically she knows the worst is over (for now, anyway. They’re still in Beacon Hills after all) but some part deep inside her wants to take him in before he is taken from her again.
It’s only when he turns his head to return her gaze does Lydia realise he has stopped talking about the rift bringing him back to his trusted jeep. She’s been caught staring, though she doesn’t mind. She feels a smile creep across her lips, sees it mirrored on his face.
A car passes by, its lights briefly illuminating their skin, reflecting in those honey eyes. Stiles turns back to the road, and Lydia laments this shift in his attention. Nevertheless, she too faces the road once more, just in time to see more lights come into view as they approach the downtown.
When they arrive, they see Melissa, Chris, Liam, Mason, Hayden and Corey waiting in front of the car porch. To the outside eye, they appear to be a large family picking Melissa up from work.
Melissa takes two steps forward when she sees Stiles, meeting him for a tight hug.
“Where’s Scott?” Stiles asks when they break apart.
On cue, four werewolves appear across the parking lot.
Scott stops right before Stiles, and the two teenagers grip each other’s shoulders.
“Where’d you go? You okay?” Scott pants.
“Yeah, I am. Lydia found me.”
Scott nods. “Okay.”
Stiles grips his friend’s arm tighter. “You stopped the train?”
“Yeah, we did.”
A pause. Then both move in for another hug which last several seconds.
After that it’s Malia’s turn. She hesitates before hugging Stiles. They ‘hey’ each other awkwardly before Stiles decides he is too happy to be back to not be touchy-feely, so he holds his arms out for the coyote to step into. Their hug is brief, unlike the one Stiles shared with Scott, but Malia still pats him on the back before pulling away.
“You’re gonna be in my photos again,” she tells him, and they both chuckle.
Stiles pointedly ignores Theo and gives Peter nothing more than a curt nod. They might have helped Scott but he still hates them.
The sheriff arrives last, having had to go to the station, and then apparently making a detour to pick up Lydia’s mum.
With everyone present, they trade stories. Some are emotional - like Melissa and Chris and Sheriff and Stiles finding each other inside the rift. Others, such as Liam’s attempt at riding a ghost horse, are more amusing.
They eventually part ways. Chris offers Malia a ride and Scott takes his mother home. The youngsters pile into Liam’s truck (which is old and blue, Stiles hasn’t gotten to commend Liam’s choice of vehicle yet).
The remaining werewolves take off on their own, leaving the Stilinski men with the Martin women.
Natalie eyes the two teenagers before her, eyes landing on their interlocked hands.
“You will be okay with Stiles?” she asks Lydia.
Lydia nods, stepping sideways to stand closer to Stiles. “More than okay, mum.”
Natalie nods, mouthing an ‘alright’ to herself. She gives Stiles a smile, then heads for the sheriff’s cruiser.
Stiles regards his father. “See you at home, dad?”
“Oh, you better be,” Noah Stilinski replies. He steps forward to clap his son on the back. “You need a shower.”
Lydia laughs inwardly as she watches the exchange.
Stiles waits until their parents are in the cruiser before turning to Lydia. He gestures to his jeep with one arm. Shall we?
Lydia takes his hand, and doesn’t let go throughout the ride.
…
When they pull up in front of the Martin house, neither of them make a move.
Ahead of them, Natalie steps out of the sheriff’s cruiser, glances back at the blue jeep with a smile, then makes her way into the house on her own.
“So, this is me,” Lydia says. Neither of them are ready to leave each other again.
“Walk you to your door?” Stiles offers.
“Hmm, such a gentleman,” Lydia says. Her words cause Stiles to grin as he climbs out of his jeep and makes his way around the front to open the passenger door for her.
His hand rests on her back as they walk side by side across her lawn to her front porch. Lydia would be lying if she said she didn’t notice this habit that Stiles had. She’d felt his hand on her back countless times before - in school after his panic attack, strolling through the streets of Mexico, facing Valack at Eichen house, his hand was always there, a comforting presence.
They stop in front of her door and face each other, drinking each other in again.
This time, Stiles breaks the silence.
“So I’ll see you in school tomorrow?” he asks slowly.
The yes is right at the tip of her tongue, but just before it passes her lips she briefly recalls what happened three months ago.
I came to school this morning, and I was sure I was supposed to meet someone.
What if she went to school and couldn’t find him?
Something must have flashed across her face, because Stiles steps forward and speaks before she can give a reply.
“Or I could pick you up in the morning? We could go out after class…”
Is he asking her on a date?
She looks into those warm eyes that are shining even in the dim light. There is a hopeful smile on his face. Lydia shifts her weight and her foot bumps lightly into his. Since when did they get so close? Since when did they have their arms around each other? His hands are gently holding her waist, hers lightly placed on his arms.
I would love that doesn’t really convey what she wants to say, or what she’s feeling, so she folds her lips before pulling them up into a smile, nodding her head.
One of Stiles’ hands slides up to cup her face. His thumb rubs soft circles on her cheek as he leans in slowly. Lydia’s eyes flutter shut as his lips meet hers, soft, gentle, and loving.
She can’t help the sigh that escapes her. All she can do is press back into the kiss and listen to the flutter of her heart as she rises ever so slightly onto her tippy toes (even with her heels, yes she knows.)
It feels like an eternity before he pulls away, their foreheads brushing as they part. There they stay, centimetres apart, still holding on to each other, cherishing the moment.
“Goodnight, Lydia,” Stiles whispers into the small gap between them.
“’Night,” she murmurs.
Then he is slowly pulling away from her, stepping off her porch, the speed of his movements a testament to how reluctant he is to leave, how much he longs to stay with her.
Lydia leans against the trellis that Stiles helped her clear of foliage the summer after sophomore year, watching him until he reaches her fence. He looks back at the end before disappearing around the edge.
She doesn’t run up to her room, but her feet are light while her heart thumps with anticipation. She reaches her window to find Stiles standing in the driveway next to his jeep, as if he knew she would be looking for him. Or maybe she knew he would be waiting for her.
They gaze at each other until the growing smiles on their faces break into happy grins and they both chuckle at how they are such lovesick teenagers. Finally, Stiles gets into the jeep and drives away, and Lydia doesn’t leave the window until the vehicle is out of sight.
Later, after a shower and a glass of water, when Lydia is ensconced in her soft cotton sheets and fluffy quilt, she hears her phone buzz with an incoming text message.
From: Stiles Stilinski
Remember I love you
She smiles at the text for a few moments while her heart swells, then types back her message before going to sleep, her head filled with dreams of plaid and amber eyes and the caress of a particular pair of hands.
Remember I love you.