It had been minutes since Kira broke the news that her ex-lover would be coming and Lydia was not handling it well.

"Oh my God, I need to leave," She mumbled while striding back and forth, her finger combing her red hair, "holy shit, I need to get out of here right now."

Sighing, Scott rubbed his hand over his face before shaking his head. To him it didn't seem like much of a big deal--in fact, he was overjoyed that Stiles would be visiting. It had been a while since he last saw his best friend, yet alone Lydia, who he hadn't seen in several years.

"Lydia, please calm down," Scott begged for the tenth time. Kira, not knowing how to handle other people's anxiety without freaking out herself, stood in the corner of the kitchen biting her lip.

But the strawberry-blonde couldn't seem to calm her nerves. She was wiped with memories of the two of them holding hands while they walked down the street, how she would plant a kiss on his cheek before she walked into her house.

After years and years and more fucking years of dreaming about his return--also how she would kill him if he came back--it was finally happening. Some part of her was praying that Kira was just joking around and that Stiles was still wherever the hell he was.

"Maybe it'll help if you tell us what it is about him that makes you. . . . like this," Isaac said while tossing his hands in the air, trying to get Lydia to co-operate.

"It's complicated!" She shrieked in fear, a dash of excitement too. No matter how much she tried to consume everything and become complacent, Lydia didn't know how to handle it. Nothing was working.

There was water burning behind her eyelids and Lydia clenched her fists whenever she thought tears were about to fall. Now was not the time for weakness. Sometime that night Stiles would knock on the door and she would be faced with him unless she could hide in the bathroom.

Lydia decided that she should instead make a plan to fight back.

She needed to show Stiles that she was over him, that she's a badass fighter. Not somebody who cries over their ex from ten years ago.

That's not Lydia.

Not anymore.

"O-okay, I think I'm going to--fuck, did Stiles just ring the doorbell?"

<><><>

Scott opened the door, a smile spreading so wide on his face that he thought it might break. Standing with the same exuberant smile was Stiles Stilinski, eyes brighter than honey and teeth whiter than snow. Although Scott didn't want to admit it, he knew that he was close to tears.

"S-Scott?"

Wearing a black dress shirt tucked into dark jeans, Stiles bit his lip while admiring his best friend. God, he missed him. All those nights sleeping in a treehouse while snacking on buttery popcorn were just hazy memories. Or the time that they would spend countless hours talking about girls and their plans for the future, not to mention that one day where Stiles walked in on his best friend making out with Allison.

Golden eyes that dripped with honey, eyelashes that touched the root of his eyebrow--every part of him was effortlessly perfect.

"Stiles!" Scott beamed, a grin involuntarily blowing up on his face, "it's so good to see you, man." Smiling, he threw his arms around the spaz, shutting his eyes for a few moments. He missed Stiles so much.

As they pulled away, Stiles rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. "Am I too early?" He asked with wide eyes, peering subtly behind Scott's shoulder to see if anyone else was there yet. But his friend's shoulders were too broad to make out anybody's figure.

Laughing, Scott shook his head. "Nope! I don't think we're waiting on anyone else, honestly. It's just a few people who are here."

Stiles and Scott had spoken over the phone and had made plans for Stiles to stay over at the McCall household for a few days. Scott would've felt a little guilty for making his friend do a two-hour drive just to see him.

So as Stiles entered a house, his companion was a small luggage case. "Where do I, uh, keep this?"

Scott grabbed the handle of the bag and started working his way up the stairs, "I'll be back in a minute." Laughing to himself, Stiles slipped off his shoes and carefully walked down the corridor, taking in everything that his friend's house held.

Frames lined the wall, filled with pictures of Scott and Kira during their travels. His stomach churned at the thought of seeing everybody who was supposed to come. Scott did say that it was a small get together, so he ran a mental list of who was most likely invited, yet alone show up.

Scott and Kira, obviously. Isaac? Boyd is on his honeymoon. Erica is visiting family in Germany. Who was coming?

Scott, Kira, Isaac, maybe Allison, maybe Lydia--

"Shit," Stiles whispered so quietly that nobody else could hear, thinking of the mess he had gotten himself into. If lydia showed up, then there would be so much tension. Too much for him to handle that Stiles would probably run out the door.

Just as he was about to delve into another string of thoughts, Isaac appeared out of a room holding a mug in his hands. Smirking widely, he sipped whatever liquid was with him and stared at the anxious boy.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Stilinski," Isaac teased while staring down at him, slightly impressed at the muscle that added to his once extremely lanky build. Grinning, Stiles rolled his eyes at the scarf wrapped around his neck and shook his head.

"Somethings never change, do they," Stiles replied with a smile, just as Isaac patted his shoulder. "Where's Kira? She's here isn't she?" It would only make sense that she was here, considering that it was her house.

Isaac bit his lip, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the hallway. Suddenly, if it weren't for the voices coming from a room on the first floor, Stiles wouldn't have answered the question for himself.

"Lydia, please come out." Kira's voice rung throughout the house, even though it was quiet. The only reason why Stiles had heard it was due to the quietness between him and Isaac. The amber eyed boy felt as if a knife had been shoved down his throat.

Eyes wide, Isaac rubbed the back of his neck. "Kira," he called out, "he's here."

Almost instantly, Kira shot into the corridor with a wide grin. Waving, she overly-exclaimed a hello before disappearing again. Just as Stiles shut his eyes and realization, Scott appeared behind him.

"Stiles, Isaac, is everything okay?" Scott asked with concern laced in his voice, trying his hardest to act as if everything was okay. If he was being honest, he didn't see what the big deal was. Allison and he had dated yet they were friends throughout high school and university.

But Lydia had her heart broken too many times to be able to tolerate another loss.

"Um," Stiles stuttered while running a hand through his hair, "dude, is Lydia coming tonight?"

Gulping, Scott shut his eyes before shaking his head. "Stiles, she's already here."

<><><><><>

Play it cool, Lydia. You can do this. You can do this. Just say hello then go where you want.

"Hey, guys!" She beamed with a painful grin sliding up her face, staring directly at Scott to avoid her ex. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom. . . monthly bleeding problems."

Chuckling nervously, Kira brought a plate of appetizers towards the coffee table in the living room, where everybody else was. They were sprawled out across the two white sofa's adjacent from each other.

Stiles kept clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to come up with the right words to say to the strawberry-blonde. What was there to say to the girl who you simply abandoned the day after graduation?

But then, as she sat down beside Kira, her eyes accidentally skirted across Stiles and she froze. Even thought Lydia was aware that he was in the house, she still felt a huge wave of shock. God, he's beautiful.

"So, how is everyone?" Isaac blurted out, snacking on the spring rolls and Doritos resting on the table, unaware of Stiles and Lydia's obliviating staring contest. His fingers trembled, not because he was scared, but because he was consumed with guilt. Why'd he leave so suddenly? Her lip quivered just the slightest, and Lydia tried to stay strong.

Scott, Kira, and Isaac indulged into a conversation, talking about what they had been up to in the last few weeks. Although the other two were wondering what's been happening the last few years.

A wave of panic taking over her, Lydia stood up and walked out of the living room, catching Stiles' living room. The other three were too deep into a conversation to acknowledge, or maybe they did see Lydia leave but think it was just to use the bathroom.

Gnawing on his lip, Stiles mumbled, "I'll be right back," before swiftly following Lydia, who was pacing in circles in front of the staircase. The corridor was so long and wide, it took him more seconds to reach her than intended.

Lydia shook her head, wetting her lips once before staring up at Stiles as if she was expecting him to follow her.

"What are you doing back here, Stiles?" She asked, her cheeks red with embarrassment. How could he just walk into the McCall house and act like absolutely nothing had happened?

"Well, it's very nice to see you too," he replied with a small smile, the kind that you placed on during moments of uncertainty.

Lydia threw her hands in the air, gritting her teeth to keep from screaming. "God, I can't believe you'd joke about this!" She exclaimed, her voice still in a tone that was quiet enough for everyone else to not hear.

Sighing, Stiles grabbed her arm gently and watched as she tried to get him to release, but his grip only tightened a bit.

"Lyds, just listen--"

"Don't fucking call me that! It's Lydia."

Lyds was reserved for Stiles during the time frame they dated. If he had called her, given her any signal that he was alive and well, then maybe Lydia would be okay with him calling her that. But this man shows up out of nowhere and calls her Lyds?

"Okay, okay. Lydia, please just let me explain." It was only acceptable that she would be pissed off. Stiles knew that if it were the other way around that he'd be pretty upset too. But just seeing her, the girl who was so beautiful and confident and utterly perfect--it was too much. Stiles just wanted to kiss her, place all their difficulties behind them. But clearly, and realistically, that wasn't what was going to happen.

She shut her eyes, swiping her tongue across her top row of teeth as she tried to fight off the tears which were building behind her eyelids. Lydia wanted to show him that she was strong, that what he did had no effect on her whatsoever.

"Just answer my question, then," she stated with crossed arms, managing to break free of his grasp, "if you kept contact with Isaac, and Scott and God knows who else, why'd you forget about me?"

Shaking his head, Stiles placed two hands up in surrender, "I didn't forget about you, of course, I didn't."

"Then why'd you leave me?"

"Lydia, yes, I left and I'm sorry, I really am. But that was six years ago, can we just forget about it? Please?"

"Do you have any idea how long I'd been looking for you? Blaming myself for your departure?" She demanded, eyes wide and voice rising dangerously. The trio was so close to hearing Lydia, and she didn't want that. It had to stay between Stiles and Lydia.

"Lydia, I--"

"God, Stiles! Can you just tell me why you left, dammit. Stop with the excuses."

Running a hand down his face, Stiles groaned quietly before gritting his teeth. It felt like his dress shirt was getting tighter and tighter with every passing second, trying to suffocate the spaz.

He sat down on the felt step of the staircase, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I knew that I was going to NYU for a few months, but I denied my acceptance and decided that I would go to the outer part of Beacon Hills to focus on me," Stiles said, staring at the floor to avoid Lydia's reaction--jaw dropped and eye's wide in fury, "but how the hell was I supposed to tell you?" Giving up, his eyes rose to her emerald ones and he shook his head. "I was so in love with you, Lyds, how was I supposed to tell you that I was leaving you?"

He told her that he was moving out of town, in the letter. But really Stiles had been there the. Whole. Time.

Stiles didn't care that he called her Lyds again, and neither did she. She just wanted the truth, and as much as it was like a punch to the heart, Lydia crossed her arms, exhaled and patiently waited for him to continue.

"So, I wrote the letter over and over again until I was sure that it was perfect," He continued, "but it didn't feel good enough. I basically had to beg Scott and Allison not to tell you because I knew it would crush you. They warned me of how angry you would be, and of course, you were, of course, you still are.

"For weeks after I left, I couldn't stop thinking about what you were wearing, who you were seeing. I knew you would go to Stanford because you got early admission, but I didn't know if you'd be angry at me for leaving, so I never visited.

"I still care about you, Lydia. And I'm so sorry for what I did to you--I fully get it if you want to slap me. But just know that I did to spare myself the heartache, okay? You were my very first love. You're the girl who I thought I would be spending the rest of my life with in high school." A few tears slowly ran down her face, and Lydia was quick to wipe them away with her sleeve.

He left. She wanted to forgive him so badly, to just get over it so that they could start a friendship again. But every single time, Lydia just pictured the day when she found the letter on her desk, reading it and sobbing for nights because she thought she had done something.

Shaking her head, Lydia watched as Stiles stood up and faced her, biting the corner of her lip. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, just tell him that she wasn't mad. That although their relationship was complicated, Lydia would be willing to fight for a new one.

Instead, she only focused on the terrible and shitty parts of what he did. All the pain and chaos that ran throughout her life because of anger and hatred for Stiles.

"Lydia," he whispered, slowly taking her hand, his heart beating so quickly that it started to cause him physical pain, "please say something."

Tears started to dribble down her cheeks quicker, yet Lydia didn't try to get rid of them. Instead, she crossed her arms and tried to keep her breathing under control. She was humiliated.

How could he do that to her?

"Did you even think about me, Stiles?" Lydia asked quietly, her voice so quiet that Stiles barely heard what she said, "did you think about what would happen to me when you left? About how I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I was numb for months because I blamed myself?"

Guilt kept stabbing him and Stiles wished that he had never come to Scott's reunion in the first place. It was a mistake disguised as a great idea.

"I'm sorry, Lydia, I--"

"I hate you, Stiles," She stated before turning on her heels, beginning to walk towards the washroom with tears falling down her face, tinting her face with mascara and eyeliner. God, she looked like a clown.

Stiles turned her around, his eyes starting to water. He was hoping that she would forgive him after his announcement, but there was an ache inside of him that realized Lydia was only angrier now.

"Please forgive me," he begged, eyes wide and hands shaking, not realizing that the bottom of his lip was shaking just the slightest bit.

Sniffing, Lydia shook her head. She pulled herself away from him and a wave of tears started running down her cheeks.

"I hate you so much."

Stiles released a string of curse words as she turned around and ran to the bathroom, slamming her back against the door. He dropped onto the stairs, ran a hand through his hair before feeling his own tears start to gather under his eyelids.

a/n

so your girl makes a comeback and this is what i give you. . . #sorrynotsorry

lots of love,

christina