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Scott’s always been…dissatisfied with his face. He wouldn’t say he’s insecure about it — not like he was back in middle school, back when he always walked past the bathroom mirror with his eyes shut and would spend the night going over Stiles’ well-intentioned research on plastic surgeons in southern California — but he’s not necessarily proud of it now, either. He sort of blames it on a mix of low (albeit slowly improving) self-esteem and the bullying he got when he was younger over his big nose and crooked jaw. He likes to think he grew into his nose a while ago, but as far as his chin— well.
That’s a different story.
Scott mentioned it to his mom once, before The Bite, and she spent the next hour reassuring him that it was perfect, just like the rest of him. The love and surety in her voice made Scott feel all warm inside, and he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let a tiny thing like his bone structure bother him again. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, but Scott felt like he mostly succeeded. It was only the bad days, now, where Scott spent too much time glaring at himself in the mirror.
Then, after a long-coming confession in the library, he and Lydia started dating the first week of senior year. It’s nothing short of perfect. They hold hands in AP bio and walk each other to class, and during passing they huddle in little corners of the halls and rant about their classes or just make out in the locker room. They make “heart-eyes” (as Malia and Kira call it) at each other over celebratory smoothies after lacrosse games, play footsie and giggle like little kids when they go to Lydia’s favorite uptown restaurants (that Scott can never afford, though he always pays her back in morning coffee and cookies from the tiny bakery in front of the school), and take quiet walks through the preserve on weekends. Scott spends less time worrying over his jaw and more time getting his hair to part just right before their weekly study dates.
Study dates are Scott’s favorite kind of date, though it’s not really the studying part of it, or even the making out part. It’s the part after all that, when they fall back into bed and cuddle and talk about anything and everything until the other has to go home. Sometimes, they have enough time to nap, and Lydia is just the perfect height that she can tuck her head comfortably under Scott’s chin. Her hair is really soft, so Scott usually finds himself absently running his fingers through it while Lydia draws little circles on his back till they fall asleep.
It’s during one of those times that Lydia casually says, “I used to be really insecure about my hair.”
“Really?” Scott asks, blinking a little in surprise, though he doesn’t stop playing with her hair. Lydia hums in response.
“Yeah, when I was little, it used to be this really bright red. Like little-orphan-Annie-red.”
“That sounds adorable.”
“No, it was terrible,” Lydia says, shuffling out from under Scott’s chin and until they’re lying face-to-face. She’s smiling, though, despite the embarrassed redness to her cheeks, and Scott can feel his face doing the lovey-dovey thing Mason keeps telling him he does (Liam is always quick to remind him that he and Corey do the exact same thing whenever they think the other isn’t looking. Mason just throws whatever book is inevitably in his hands at him, before groaning in frustration when Liam catches it with ease).
“I used to get teased for it so bad when I was little!” she cries, covering her face with her hands before looking back up at him. “But then I got into The Little Mermaid, and whenever somebody tried making fun of my hair, I just reminded them I looked just like a Disney princess—their faces were the best thing, I swear to god.”
“I can imagine!” Scott says, both of them bursting into laughter. As they catch their breaths, Scott can’t help but add, “God, I wish I had your confidence when I was younger.”
“Why?” Lydia asks, furrowing her eyebrows at him as she sits up a little, resting the side of her head on her hand. Scott swallows uncomfortably.
“I mean, well- I sorta got bullied because of my. Y’know.” He gestures at his general face. Lydia just looks even more confused.
“You have to be more specific than that, Scott,” she sing-songs, taking his hand in hers and interlacing their fingers together. Despite the apparent teasing in Lydia’s tone, Scott can tell she knows this is a bit of a sore spot and takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It’s sort of silly, umm…” He rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, ducking his head and refusing to meet Lydia’s eyes as he speaks. “I got bullied for my jaw. Just ‘cause, y’know, it’s crooked. And I know it’s silly, but it really bothered me when I was younger.” He squeezes her hand in his, mumbling, “It still does, sometimes.”
When Lydia tilts his chin so he can look up at her, her little smile immediately puts him at ease. “Well, they don’t matter anymore,” she says matter-of-factly, chin raised as if in defiance to his childhood bullies. “Sorry to break it to you, but your jaw is perfect just the way it is.”
Scott feels his lips quirk up of their own volition. Before he can say anything, Lydia leans forward and places two sure kisses on his jawline that leave Scott grinning like the lovesick teenager he is. Lydia makes a noise of satisfaction at the sight, and goes back to tucking her head under his chin, curling up into his chest.
Scott smiles a little softer and closes his eyes, strands of red hair tickling his nose. His jaw still tingles a little where Lydia’s lips had been.
Yeah, it was perfect.