* | LYDIA.
lydia was exhausted , ever since the video of a potential victoria sighting had surfaced , it had been all her college friends had spoken to her about ––– wanting to know the details , or trying to make sure she was okay . but femme refused to speak to them , it had taken three days to actually click play on the video herself , would rather remember her childhood friend through fond memories , instead of grainy cctv footage . after finally watching the video , she confined herself to her bedroom ––– didn’t need her friends witnessing an emotional , wailing mess and she didn’t want to open up to them either , none of them knew victoria , how could she? the initial shock wore off four days later and although lydia was far from okay , she knew that she needed her old friends ––– and they needed her , especially one person in particular . reid winters . vic’s older brother . the same person she spent her entire childhood irritating . knew whatever she was feeling , he would be feeling one hundred times worse .
the journey from college to baltimore didn’t take too long , taken the route plenty of times before and soon enough she was outside reid’s apartment . curses under her breath as hudson grants lydia permission to enter , had definitely forgotten the pair were roommates . thankfully their conversation stays at a minimum before she makes her way to the other male’s room . the sight and smell of reid’s bedroom was enough for her to usually turn around and leave , hell she’s ended things with a guy that left a lone mouldy coffee mug on his bed and this situation was so much worse . but lydia wouldn’t leave this time , knew this wasn’t laziness ––– it was depression . and red head knew the signs of depression all too well thanks to being diagnosed a year after victoria’s disappearance . rolls her eyes at reid’s words , folding her arms immediately . ‘ okay , i know i’m not the most selfless person in the world , but hudson didn’t call me . he didn’t need to . i just wanna be here for you , reid . ’ takes a few steps closer , doesn’t get too close to the bed ––– doesn’t want to startle him . ‘ i know , i should have gotten here when the … y’know , video first got leaked and i’m sorry that i wasn’t . but i’m here now , you don’t have to say anything , i get not wanting to talk but please don’t push me away . ’
PERHAPS IF HE ROLLS OVER & shuts his eyes real tight he can will her away. can forget she’s there long enough for her to be satisfied & go. but then she says it: don’t push me away, & it’s like a blade through the gut, pinning him in place. how often had victoria said those exact words to him ? or some variation of them ? don’t go / don’t leave / you’re my brother ; i need you / don’t push me away. lydia is not victoria, sure, & reid is not her brother, but there is a history here —— one that blurs lines & fudges his view just enough so that she & he may as well be. it makes it hard to do anything but look at her then. to peel his eyes open & away from his own self misery & see her, standing just a few steps away, tall & strong & incredibly misplaced in the mess that is his room. she’s grown up a lot, he thinks, now finally able to see her in person after years of limited phone communication. maybe a couple weeks ago he would have said he’d grown up as well, both of them now far cries from the teenagers they’d been, but unfortunately the reid from a couple weeks ago isn’t the same as the one from today. an anger bubble up at that though, but he’s not quite sure which reid to be more mad at : the one who foolishly chose to try & be happy, or the one that now sits, decomposing alive in his own bed.
it’s a long, drawn out silence, as if he’s happily taking her up on her offer of not having to speak, before finally, ❝ you look good. ❞ she looks like lydia, which is to say: perfectly manicured & upkept / doll-like / artificial. he wonders if the concealer on her cheeks is hiding tear stains. it’s not a question on if she’s been crying at all ; he knows she has. he knows they all have. ❝ i don’t wanna treat you like a fuckin’ therapist, lyd. ❞ he rolls onto his back, gaze fixing to the idly spinning ceiling fan above as his arms stretch out on either side of him. he keeps her in his peripheral though. ❝ if you’re worried i’m gonna do something stupid, don’t. this whole thing just tore open an old wound, you know ? just gotta wait for it to blow over, or whatever. ❞ but how does one wait for something like this to ‘blow over’ ? dark brows furrow at the thought, adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow. fuck. ❝ jesus, lyd . . . i mean, you don’t really think it’s her, do you ? ❞ reid’s voice trembles, & there’s something almost desperate about the question. he doesn’t believe he can trust his own eyes, but he can trust lydia’s. if she tells him it’s not vic— if she tells him they don’t need to go back, back to deep creek— he’ll listen. he’ll take the out. in fact, he’s begging her for it.
