Broken Kiss (a Teen Wolf story)

Part 24

        Lydia’s nails scraped against the railing as she descended the stairs. There was an unmistakable determination in the slap of her feet against the hardwood floor. The sound of a banshee on the warpath, a glorious sound. Peter smiled to himself, intercepting her as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

            “Hot chocolate?” he asked.

            She jerked to a stop, whatever speech she’d planned dying on her tongue as she looked back and forth between the steaming mug he held out to her and the food he’d laid out.

            Tossing her hair back, Lydia shook her head.

            “No. We need to talk.” But her eyes strayed to the food.

            “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.” Peter set the mug on the center island and touched her back, urging her onto a stool. “We were down there a long time. You must be hungry.”

            She smelled good, clean and slightly floral. Heat radiated from her skin, and the thought of her wearing nothing but steam was intoxicating. Her damp hair hung almost to her hips. Her oversized sweater had fallen off of one shoulder as bare as her slim legs inside of silky shorts. A loose, thick top but lots of skin, like she couldn’t decide whether to hide herself from him or not. He understood the depths of that uncertainty. Forcing himself away from her, he circled to face her.

            “Are you dizzy?” he asked.

            Frowning, she shook her head.

            “It can be an aftereffect,” he explained.

            “Of going to the underworld, or of nearly dying there?”

            “Of going.” His pulse sped up at thought of her body hanging limp in his arms. Dead weight, her vitality fading away. He cleared his throat and pushed the thought away, focusing on something concrete and distant. “Something about the place leaches minerals from the body, creating an electrolyte imbalance.”

            “Ooh, horrible scenery and the possibility of dizziness, organ failure, and cardiac arrest. I’m surprised it’s not a number one vacation destination.” Lydia wrapped her hands around the mug and pulled it close. Her eyes half-closed as she inhaled the rich steam.

            “You didn’t have to come,” he said. He hid the question in his words too well, apparently, as Lydia sipped but did not say anything.

            He pushed a plate toward her and leaned down on his elbows, putting them at eye level. She picked up a sandwich and took a bite before meeting his gaze.

            “And you didn’t have to attack a god and anger his vengeful wife.”

            “That is…true.”

            “God, I haven’t been this hungry since junior high.” She gulped the hot chocolate and he slid his still-full mug toward her.

            “What happened in junior high?”

            “Mom mentioned I was getting pudgy. I stopped eating for a few months.”

            The spoon in his hand bent in half as he made a fist. Lydia shrugged one shoulder.

            “It was a phase. Eventually I talked myself out of it.”

            “You know, it’s things like that that make me wish we were fully integrated with humankind. I would love to see someone try to inflict those pointless, arbitrary standards on Cora.”