Your Damn Fault

•Chapter Twenty One•

Three years later:
"Happy birthday to you!" Everyone cheered for Lydia as she blew out the candles on her cake with excitement. She was shocked to come home from work and see their apartment full with friends; Isaac, Scott, Allison, some girls from the club and a few of Stiles' friends she'd come to know. Hell, even Derek and Stiles' dad were there. She liked Noah, was glad Stiles had invited him. They had begun to rekindle their relationship, with a little help from Lydia, and the three of them were practically a little family seeing as she had no one and Stiles only had him. Lydia swiped a finger full of frosting from the cake and smushed it on Stiles' face. Giving a small gasp, he wiped what he could of the mess back onto her own face before she could run away. He attacked her in kisses, sloppy and quick like hormonal teens and with the pure intention of getting a few hollers out of their friends. She pushed his chest, separating them and laughed, pecking him on the lips before they both went to the kitchen to clean their faces.

"Are you happy?" He asked, taking a wet cloth to begin cleaning her face.
She chuckled. "I love it, thank you."
"And you're having fun?" He asked next, nervous she wouldn't like the surprise party even though she just said she had.
"Stiles,"
"What? What! I'm just asking! I need to know the birthday girl is enjoying everything." He rambled and handed her the cloth as she started to clean his face now.
"Yes I'm having fun. . .are we going to be having fun later?" She lowered her voice, making sure he was the only one to hear.
"Oh god, yes." He pecked her cheek and they returned to the living room where everyone was already digging into the cake.

Lydia sat in the love-seat across from the couch, presents crowding her feet and Allison quickly raced over to the girl to place a tiara on her auburn curls.
"Open lover boys first!" Scott suggested. Stiles punched him in the arm and the dark hair boy punched him back until a brother like war had ensued between them.
"Stiles," Allison stepped between them. "Everyone wants to see what you got her anyway, you lose. She's opening yours first."
Everyone turned to him, waiting for the boy to tell her which box or gift bag was from him.
"Uh...give me two seconds." He cleared his throat and then jogged off to their room to retrieve what was assumed to be the gift. But he only came back with a green envelope, the kind that was automatically associated with cheap dollar store cards. Lydia would be lying if she said she wasn't a little disappointed but it was from him and that's all that mattered. She smiled, took it from his hand and waited for the boy to walk away but he stood behind where she sat, wanting to see her reaction.

"I-I have an actual gift but I don't want everyone one to see it." He explained, pointing to the card.
Isaac snickered. "Lingerie?" He said in a snarky voice that made Danny smack him upside the head.
"I bet it's something personal, you dirty little mind." Danny defended the two love birds and turned back to the couple as Lydia opened the card. She opened her mouth to speak but his eyes widened. "No, no, don't read it out loud!" He protested and lunged for it but she turned to where he couldn't grab it. Then the Lydia Martin death glare was set upon him and he knew once again he had lost. "The first time I saw you," she read but then paused to look up at him with laughter. "The first time you saw me you were drunk." Everyone chuckled and he scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. She returned to reading. "I knew I'd get you. . . I'd catch you in a net and cradle you in my arms. You're indescribable, I can't put words on you. So much more than perfect and beautiful and smart. You're not a world you're a fucking universe. I like to see you dream, I count the freckles on your shoulders like stars as you lay, curled in my sheets. And yes, I like seeing you in my bed, but only when you're tired and in one of your favorite sweaters. You're my favorite, out of all of it, the entirety of everything, you're my favorite."
The room was silent as Lydia lifted her eyes from the card and to her boyfriend. She smiled weakly, not crying but still seeming broken and she reached out for the boy. She thanked him, kissing his cheek and giving him a hug.