Maybe it was the way he spoke to her – like they were equals; always honest, but never harsh or hurtful. Maybe it was the way he listened to her, like no matter what, her words were of value to him. Maybe it was how smart he was, his mind always several steps ahead of everyone else in the room – always searching for information, distinguishing details that no one else bothered to notice, and interpreting it in ways that others couldn’t. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, like he could see past all the layers of hurt to something more – the person she wanted to be. Maybe it was the way he made her laugh – like no one else could; the kind that developed in a hidden place, tucked beneath her ribs, and was impossible to withhold because it insisted on rippling through every cell in her body. Maybe it was the way he cared – about everything and everyone. She never knew someone who cared so deeply about so much.
Maybe it wasn’t any one thing that drew her to him, but rather a perfect combination of all the things that made Stiles…Stiles.
What Lydia knew for sure was that she trusted Stiles, and no matter how scared she was, she wanted to talk to him.
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