Falling Slowly
Chapter 17: Hold on to Me
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters: Stiles + Lydia
Summary: She focuses on the precious rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand, and she remembers the moment when she saw him – a glowing beacon in the dead of night.
A night she will never forget…
Lydia stood breathless before Stiles. His eyes were already locked on her, his expression one she had seen many times – not surprised, relieved. She remembers the simple words they exchanged; a spoken form of shorthand that had been perfected long before. She remembers the amber in his irises, radiating pure love. She remembers the openness of his arms, ready and willing to accept her, just as she is. She remembers her heart guiding her forward, needle of a love-struck internal compass pointing with absolute precision towards her magnetic north – Stiles. And then…
She remembers his arms encircling her and the committed motion of his lips equaling hers, passion for passion, as they sought to reclaim the physical connection that they had been deprived of for three long months. They were two halves of one whole, torn apart and tattered at the core…but seamlessly fusing together again.
They kissed. Their lips pressing with purpose and fitting in ways she had never even imagined were possible. They kept kissing. Her hands caressing his face, and his clutching her back…and her waist…and her hips. Her fingers exploring the angles of his cheekbones and the curves of his ears, and his knotting into the fabric of her black floral romper, pulling her closer…and closer. Her thumbs skimming his eyelashes, and his massaging circles into the sides of her ribs. Her nose against the side of his, and his smashing into her cheek. They kissed, and Lydia let herself dive right into the bottomless pool of affection between them, knowing full well that Stiles would be there to help her stay afloat.
When they parted, they looked upon each other with wondrous stares and watery eyes. Stiles was with her, alive and safe. She knew he was real. She felt it all along – her love for him more present, more reassuring than anything she had ever known. Stiles was with her, and she would no longer have to escape to her dreams to be with him. She could see him in front of her, eyebrows cinched in understanding of her pain, one side of his mouth granting her the magnificent revelation of a smile. She could hear him, panting bursts of emotion that echoed through silence. In those blissful moments, his exhales became the oxygen that expanded her lungs, revived her heart, and lifted her spirits. She could breathe in his scent – pine needles, and laundry detergent, and Stiles – same as it always was. She could taste the mint that he had nicked from the pocket of her dress, only a short time before he disappeared. She could feel him, hold on to him, and relish in the way his body reacted to her touches; his chest shuddering and his pulse erratically jumping beneath her ring finger. In those long-awaited moments, there was inimitable heat between them, powerful enough to convert a cold metallic cavern into paradise found.
They hugged. A hug to be the envy of all that preceded it. Stiles nuzzled along the side of her face, and Lydia nestled into the space between his neck and shoulder – that perfect nook that had been carved out just for her. She remembers his strong arms enveloping her and her fists secured to his shoulder blades, brushed cotton flannel cushioning her palms and knuckles. She remembers the way their whole bodies were leaning in, searching for and finding respite in the divine physical representation of their love.
They hugged, and their bodies swayed in unison – the first dance of the rest of their lives. Together.
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