Not a Valentine's date

Chapter 1

A/N: As of January 2019, this story is ON HOLD, and so it will be picked up once some of the on-going stories are finished.

xxx

It's a cold January night when Stiles calls her at 2am and asks if he can stop by. He sounds broken and tired, his voice hoarse, and it only reminds her of the time he was possessed by an evil spirit, so of course she says yes. Ten minutes later he's on her front porch. Lydia opens the front door and almost automatically, he starts heading upstairs; she doesn't say anything. He's been crying, she notices, and looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, so she just trails close behind him as they tiptoe all the way to her bedroom not to wake up her mom.

There, he takes off his jacket while she moves her books from her bed to her desk, making room for him. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at his hands.

"Can I get you anything? Water, maybe?" she asks.

He looks up at her and all she sees is sadness in his eyes. "No, thanks. I'm good." Lydia sits beside him, not sure of what to do. "I'm sorry for calling this late. I didn't mean to bother you..."

"It's fine. I was awake."

"I wasn't even sure you'd be home, I thought you'd be at the party," he mutters.

Parties are not really her thing anymore. "Wasn't feeling like it, so I stayed home tonight. I've been researching."

Now he feels guilty. It's been months since they pulled an all-nighter together researching for the pack. He doesn't even remember when the last time they were alone was. "Can I help?"

She won't force him to talk. If he's there with her, there's a reason for it and she'll take all the time with him she can get, whatever that reason might be. Also, the idea of Stiles helping her again to do what they do best together is cheering her up and she really wants to say yes but he looks exhausted, and even if it would get his mind off of whatever it is that's bothering him, she just wants to make him feel better. She's worried about him. He has never come to her like this and even though it's uncharted territory for them, they adjust quickly, doing and saying things like it's what they are supposed to do.

She takes his hand and squeezes it gently, a small smile on her lips. "Tomorrow. You look like you could use a good night sleep. Would your dad mind if you stayed?"

He shakes his head. "Would your mom mind?"

"No, of course not. Come on," she says, crawling her way on the bed to get underneath the covers.

She already has her pjs on, so Stiles quickly takes off his shoes and joins her on the bed. He actually expected Lydia to ask questions, at least until she knew what all of this was about (he still hopes that, if he's right, she will inquire carefully when she does), but he is still surprised and grateful when she keeps her thoughts to herself, giving him time to open up about it. He turns on his side to face her and, turning off the lights, Lydia does the same. The only light coming into the room comes from the moon.

"I uh... I know this is weird, but I kind of just needed someone to talk to, or not talk to, I guess," he mumbles.

"It's okay, Stiles. I'm here whether you want to talk or not, alright?" She smiles reassuringly. "Why don't we get some sleep and we can talk in the morning, if you want to?"

He nods so she turns on the bed again so that her back is against the mattress. Lydia looks at the ceiling for a moment, trying to focus on thoughts that are not related to the boy with the moles and hazel eyes. It's one thing having him in her bed, another thing entirely if she has to watch him fall asleep next to her. She'll only fall more in love with him and she's already in deep as it is. That's when he speaks.

"It's Malia. She uh... She broke up with me."

She glances at him but he doesn't return the gaze right away. He sounded tired and sad and hurt and Lydia can't help but to reach for him for comfort. She stays in the same position but moves a little closer to him, lifting the blankets and patting her belly. "Come here."

"Lydia, you don't have to..."

Even in the dim light, Stiles can see her roll her eyes and he wants to laugh, but the situation doesn't call for it so he tries to hide a smile, one that Lydia, of course, sees.

He gets so close to her that it's like they're glued together and Lydia bites her lip when he lowers his head to rest on her stomach and embraces her.

"Is this okay?"

It's always disconcerting to Lydia that he worries about her as much as he does. Sure, lately things have been a little off with them, but he still cares. That's all she needs to know. She also knew that his break up with Malia was imminent but she always thought he'd be the one ending it, not the other way around, and even though Lydia knows, deep down, that he didn't love her, Stiles still liked the girl and it is his first break up after all, so he needs comfort.

"It's fine, Stiles."

"But you'll get cold," he says, looking up at her.

Now that's a view. They both blush because they had never seen the other from such perspective, or been together with such intimacy for that matter. Lydia pulls the blankets enough so that they cover Stiles and her torso, and even though everything from her chest up is uncovered and out in the cold, she doubts she'll freeze; he's warming her up just fine. "I'm sure I won't."

He tries to hold back but he's not feeling so strong anymore now that he's in Lydia's arms, so eventually he starts crying silently. She knows he is, she can feel her shirt getting wet but she doesn't mention it; instead she starts running her hand through his hair tenderly, holding him close to her and whispering that everything is going to be okay. They fall asleep like that.