Lydia's Shy (completed)

12. Apparently

Apparently It lasted a week.

Apparently they were a couple. Apparently they held hands in the halls and kissed each other at the lockers and apparently he walked her to all of her classes. All of her classes.

There were a lot of 'apparently's that he wasn't particularly fond of. Apparently he couldn't look at, think about, or talk to other girls. Apparently PDA was a common thing now. It was never something he'd really cared about in a relationship. Yes, holding hands and yes, maybe a peck on the cheek but Malia had seemed ridiculous about the whole thing. Three kisses– not two and not four and not pecks– before parting ways whether it be at classes or him dropping her off at the girls house. The two could never just sit next to each other normally, no, Malia had to be pressed into his side with her arm linked through his. Apparently she wanted him to believe this was a normal thing but to him it seemed a little clingy.

And where does our story start today? At Malia's house on her couch. It wasn't until the third call to his phone did he break the current kiss.
"I should get that." He breathes as Malia's lips transfer to his neck. The girl had planted herself on his lap fifteen minutes into the movie. She had interrupted Star Wars.
"It's probably not important." She mumbles before taking his bottom lip between her teeth.
"It's probably very important. That's the third call." He sits up slightly and Malia sighs before falling off of his lap in a huff.

He wanted to give a snippy remark but instead he picks up his phone.
"Lydia?" He questions the caller ID. She'd been crying. He knew she'd been crying from the second her voice filtered into his ear.
"C-can you come home please?"
He was already on his feet, her voice a whimper followed by a few sniffles. Malia trailed after him with furrowed brows and heavy footsteps.
"Are you okay? Do I need to send someone to the house cause Dad'll have a squad car over there in–"
"Just come," she sighs into the phone, the breath stuttered. "please."
He nods but remembers she can't see him and assures that he'll be there soon as possible before hanging up.

"Where are you going?" Malia grabs Stiles' wrist as he reaches for the door handle.
"Somethings wrong with Lydia." He pulls his hand back.
"But I thought we were watching a movie?" She batted her eyes innocently at the boy but no goddamn way in hell would he fall for that. Swiping his keys off the small table by the front door, he glares at her. Something in his heart shriveled.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you. But I guess Isaac Lahey was right to warn me." Feeling satisfied, he leaves. But Malia had no clue what the boy was talking about.
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Her eyes were drained of every last tear as she leaned against the frame of her bed. She never understood why she was like this way. The tiny hairs on her nape– falling out of her bun– were still damp and the clothes she threw on seconds before Stiles had busted into her room still clung to her skin from moisture. He was on the floor next to her in an instant.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt, what happened?" Stiles immediately began to search for injuries. But she was physically okay. Emotionally, not so much. The girl lets out a sob, covering her mouth to keep anymore from escaping. Stiles lifts his gaze from her body to her face where he gently pulls her frame into his while murmuring gentle words.

This wasn't a normal occurrence. This wasn't a thing. The last time he'd seen her cry was that Sunday, approximately five days ago. They weren't this close, they didn't hug, they were barely talking (though significantly more than when they had first met) but she needed his comfort and he seemed to know that.
"I was drowning, I was drowning, I was drowning." She kept whispering into his shoulder. It took her a while to calm down, to tell him she hadn't actually been drowning, to tell him it was only a fear. Only another thing that made her weak.

He kept her in the hug for a moment more before asking what he could do to help. Shyly she asked him to sit with her in the bathroom when she took a bath. And of course it took him by surprise. Little Lydia asking him to what now? She explained briefly how her mother used to sit on the floor next to the tub and tell her stories or read her books. Because as long as there was someone in the room with her, she'd be be fine. Her mother could pull her back up for air. The thought of the woman made her want to cry again. So he agreed. Stiles told her he'd wait outside the bathroom door until she was covered with bubbles and when he heard her small "okay", it took him a moment to actually open the door.

She was the girl afraid to drown and he was the boy that kept her floating.

"You were on your date, huh?" She asks as he sits Indian style, knees hitting the fiberglass sides of the tub.
"Yeah..." He sighs, picking up some bubbles with his fingertip to blow them in her face.
"I'm sorry." She sinks lower into the water.
Stiles chuckles. "Lydia you don't ever have to apologize to me. Okay? Don't apologize to me." He pauses. "Malia was kind of overrated anyway. Very bitchy. Clingy. Now I'm Anagapesis."
Lydia laughs causing a smile to creep across his face.
"No longer feeling affection for someone you once loved." She recites and his smile grew wider. He liked that she understood his use of un-used words.

Folding his arms against the lip of the tub, Stiles rests his head there as well and closes his eyes with a sigh. The only sound was their light breathing and the occasional swish of water from Lydia. It was peaceful.
"Stiles," his eyes shot open immediately. "could you..." She trails off, motioning for him to leave but not stray too far with a soapy hand. once again, he listens to her. And apparently, they were becoming friends.
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Authors note:

BORED. HELP.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe