▄ ; ❛ lydia scream ❜

LYDIA MARTIN The Brains "Nobel doesn't have a prize for mathematics. The Fields Medal is the one I'll be winning" She will be the one who figures it out. She will rise to the challenge for which she there is nothing she cannot face. She is a woman in her own right. She is a fighter.

[fieldsmedalist-blog]

{stiles}:

Before Stiles could stop himself, he was scampering to his feet and crossing the room – albeit, carelessly. Almost stumbling over his own feet, a lanky arm was wrapping around the girl and tugging her against his chest. “Oh my god, Lydia. You’re okay.” Every since he had arrived, his friends were what worried him most. SCOTT. Lydia, and his father. Seeing the red head made his chest feel lighter.

She reacted to his actions at a molasses rate, Lydia wasn’t expecting the movement but enjoyed the calm wave that is cascaded over her. Suddenly things seemed a bit less concerning as they did the moments before and her body curled to meet his. ❛ Yeah, I’m fine. Have you seen anyone else? You’re the second person I’ve really talked to since I got here. ❜ The fear for the others sank in and her eyes collided with his as worry flashes through them.

[fieldsmedalist-blog]

{stiles}:

There’s a long pause for the other. Prior, he had only been seeing a figure out of the corner of his eye and assumed that it was one of the many strangers in the camp. But, his heart stuttered and eyes snapped up to the door almost instantly, voice a shaky croak, “ … Lydia?”

❛ Hi... I’m glad to see you’re safe. ❜ The words were trembling from her tongue, she for once was fighting the quiver beneath her voice. It felt difficult to be normal in this situation but it wasn’t the proper time to panic either. In fact, this was the crucial moment to hold it together. 

[fieldsmedalist-blog]

{stiles}:

“Are you going to talk, or just linger there? Cause I gotta say – the lingering is creepy.”

❛ Creepy? After everything we’ve gone through me standing here is what you find creepy? I’m just thinking and I think better when you’re around. ❜

[fieldsmedalist-blog]

{sam}:

How long had the youngest Winchester been on his own? Days? Weeks? Since his girlfriend’s death, he’d lost track of time. His rugged appearance only offered a slight indicator of time. Dirt and blood from various injuries scattered across his body. Certain injuries from his run in with the infected had long since healed, but some lingered. A large gash rested on forehead, which seemed to scream the wound needed medical attention. A boarder collie in much healthier condition than Sam himself stayed by his side. The dog was the one memory of his now deceased girlfriend he had to hold on to. Sam refused to let him go. As Sam approached the gates, he paused to study the camp. His skepticism was short lived however, as the dog began to bark. Footsteps from the infected emerged, and Sam wasted no time ending the problem. “Hey! Is anyone there? Look if you could let my dog and I in, that’d be great. I’m not bit, and I’m not leaving the dog behind.”

Lydia could feel the edges of her paper brain flicking off ward as if caressed by a torch. She wanted to help, somehow, someway. It was beginning to feel for her as though it could be right before their eyes. The redhead attempted to seclude her thoughts into the deep pits of her head but it was proving to be more difficult than she thought. The girl contiued to pace, each step having another idea run through the spaces she’d left in her mind palace. That’s when there was a distraction brought forward, someone asking for assistance to which she provided immediately. Her feet lead her forward so that she could bring the male inside, along with his furry friend. Lydia liked to think she had good judgement, though this decision was made strictly out of concern for his safety. ❛ Are either of you hurt? You’re not infected, right? ❜