Blue Moon » Stilinski

Three

So, Chapter Three is finally up! Sorry if it's short and not as well-written as other chapters; I've been trying to get over writer's block. Like always, VOTE. COMMENT. ENJOY. :D Love ya                                                                

                                                            Chapter Three

                                                                •  Stiles  •

“Okay, time to get the hell to school.” Lydia stands before me with her hands on hips and a bite to her voice; slightly disheveled, but makeup intact. Even with the world falling apart around her, she manages to rise beautifully from the ashes.

            My head shakes imperceptibly, buried between blankets and schoolwork I haven’t started. I can’t seem to find my voice.

            She holds up a crinkled bag with manicured fingers, shaking it in temptation. “Come on, I even brought you a bagel!”

            This only receives a flick of my eyes and a slight raise to my eyebrow. This is, apparently, enough to make her groan in exasperation.

            “Seriously, cut the crap and stop your Derek impersonation. One minute you’re angry, and then you’re sad, and then you’re screaming, and then you’re nothing at all. You’ve got more mood swings than a girl on her period.” My head whips towards her and she rolls her eyes. “Yes, your dad told me everything; he thought I might be able to help you get away from your mopefest.”

            I feel like snapping at her. How would you feel if the people you loved left your life as quickly as they had entered it, ripped violently away into the unknown, to a place where you couldn’t follow? But I resist the urge, shoving the words down my throat and choking on them. My hands recede deeper in the pockets of my jeans.

            Lydia sighs and drops the bag on the ground, the sudden movement causing me to jump. She settles down next to me, carefully, as if close contact might startle me. Gently, she slides her hand in mine and rests her head on my shoulder. I feel like the world is threatening to crush me.

            “I know how hard this must be for you.” Her voice is quiet, leaves blowing against a closed window. “It’s hard for all of us: Allison; Scott; me. But you have to get over her. Yes, I realize that seems impossible, but it’ll happen. It’ll take a while― definitely― but eventually, you will get over her. Aubrey just died. It’s natural for you to be upset and hole yourself up in your room, but it’s been a week. You need to let us in so that we can help you. You do realize that we can help you, don’t you? Stiles, you don’t have to go through this alone. Scott’s worried about you; your father is worried about you. Hell, I’m worried about you! Just let me in.”

            Her words wash over me, threatening to pin me on the shore. Yes, I want someone to help me― I need someone to help me. Someone that can make my heavy burden a little bit lighter. Someone who can grab onto the swirling dark mass surrounding me and light it on fire, watch it burn. But I don’t know how to communicate.

            So instead, I squeeze her hand.

            She squeezes back. “You need to let Aubrey go, Stiles. And I don’t mean to be insensitive about it, because I really, really miss her too, but she’s dead. She isn’t coming back. There is nothing you can do to change that. It’s in the past, and that’s final. It’s time to start focusing on the future. But to do that, you’re going to have to let Aubrey go.”