[BOOK 5] "𝙞 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 - 𝙞 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡."
For three whole months, Aspen and Stiles been happy. But that was until the Wild Hunt made it's way t...
second chapter of double update, make sure you've read ( chapter 8: maybe i am in hell ) !!!
009. MOTORCYCLE INTERCOM
void - the neighbourhood 'I wonder how I got by this week, I only touched you once. lately I can't find the beat, I used to feel the rush. and now I need you to feel a vibe, I need you to see the point. I need you to feel alive, I need you to fill a void.'
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LATER THAT DAY, after school, Lydia was over at Stiles' again, the two of them laying on top of the sheets of the bed on their stomachs, working on some homework together. Both of them had other things on their mind other than the history textbook in front of them though.
Lydia was fiddling nervously with the pen in her hand, glancing over at her hazel-eyed boyfriend as she pursed her lips, wondering if she should talk about what was on her mind.
Every time she was pry her eyes away and look down, Stiles would then turn to look at her, feeling that same nervousness. Every time the two of them were alone together, every time their lips touched— he couldn't help but spiral slightly. Recently, He'd began to question things, ask himself questions where he couldn't come up with the answers to them.
He'd been biting his tongue on saying anything in fear of hurting Lydia's feelings— he'd never want to hurt her, but he was scared that they were just hurting themselves more.
"Can I ask you something?" Lydia finally spoke up, turning to him and locking eyes, breaking the tensioned silence.
"Uh—" Stiles cleared his throat nervously, "Yeah, sure— of course, anything."
Lydia pursed her lips once again, looking into his eyes as she tried to find the words she needed to say.
"This, um— this Aspen person..." Lydia began, still fiddling with the pen in her hands, "You seem pretty set on finding proof of her being real, it kinda makes me wonder things..."
Stiles could sense he knew where this was going, and he felt immensely guilty for his own feelings.
"I kinda have to ask, you know," said Lydia, "What is it that you think she was to you?"
Stiles swallowed nervously, flicking his gaze between looking in Lydia's eyes and looking down at his own hands. He shook his head softly, trying to come up with words to say.
"I, um..." he hesitated, his voice a very low, guilty murmur, "I think that she... that— that I..."
Lydia smiled weakly, knowing he was struggling to say what she had already guessed and put together. "It's okay—" she said, cutting him off as they locked eyes again, "I think I already know..."
