kore_logs | Take a bow and wave...

Entry tags:

Take a bow and wave...

Who: Lydia Martin, ANYBODY ELSE
What: Lydia has been following purple flower petals all around town. They eventually lead her to the library where she ends up hiding from a certain psychotic werewolf. Feel free to encounter her anywhere.
Where: Outside, in public buildings, maybe even in your house, and then at the library.
When: Days 37 and 38 (just let me know in the subject line)
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, mentally unstable teenagers, possible descriptions of graphic scenes, will update as needed

It doesn't make sense for her to be following. She should be running. See a flower, turn around, go the opposite way... but she keeps going. Her makeup is still flawless, her hair is still perfect, she's still Lydia Martin. Despite the scar he left, she's still herself and she wants him to know.

But something's off. She can't tell what it is, but it's something. All she knows is she has to find him before he finds her or the people she cares about. He won't touch Stiles again. He won't touch Kobra or Daneel.

And so Lydia roams around in a thin dress, a thin cardigan, and bare feet. The cold doesn't seem to be registering. The people around her barely enter her though process at all unless they get closer and start talking to her.

Eventually she finds the library... and she knows he's in there somewhere.

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She would totally yell at him. But right now, she just wants to take care of him and keep him safe.

Her arms circle his waist loosely, but her hold on him tightens considerably after the sudden news of his brother. She doesn't know what to say. She looks up at him, lips parted but no words are coming out. Finally, things start to click into place. Peter Hale is forgotten for the time being. Kobra needs her.

"... When? Kobra, I'm so sorry. Are you-- of course you're not okay."

"Yesterday. Jet found him. He didn't let me see." He keeps ushering her inside, though. Yeah, he's upset, but she's walking around all cold and barefoot and dazed. He needs to take care of her. His shit can wait. He's not losing anyone else. He's not.

"C'mon. You feel like ice. We'll get you a hot bath, okay?" Girls like baths, right? They're all relaxing and shit. It's easier to focus on taking care of her than focusing on Party or whatever he's been breaking.

Talk of hot baths only make her see the hair in the drain and the blood-coloured water and the hand reaching out to-- "No! No thank you... I'm fine. We'll just... we'll just go to my room and I'll clean and wrap your hands."

When they reach the house, she opens the door and heads straight for the bathroom to get the first aid kit. She hesitates at the mirror, stares at it, waiting for something, but nothing appears. She grabs the kit and hurries out of there, into her bedroom instead.

"Come here. Give me your hands." Never mind that she's shivering and constantly looking over her shoulder. She has to focus. It's... incredibly difficult.

Kobra trails after her like a loyal dog all the way to her bedroom, watching her with worry.

"'S not that bad. Stop tryin' to take care of me so I can take care of you." He sits on the edge of her bed and holds out his hands, anyway. Maybe if she bandages them, she'll let him focus on her after, because she's clearly not okay. He's not that smart, but he gets that much. He gets that sometimes people just need someone to hold them or whatever and he'd be happy to hold her.

"It's supposed to be mutual, Kobra, that's how this works." Whatever this is. He may be a loyal dog, but it's not like she's keeping him on a leash. She loves him, he knows, and that's enough. They'll take care of each other and she doesn't really care what he does outside of that.

... Much.

She cleans his hands with antiseptic, probably wincing more than he is as she does it. The knuckles look swollen when she wipes the blood away. Gently, she wraps both hands in bandages before finally sitting down beside him. "You're probably still in shock. How long were you out there beating up inanimate objects? ... They were inanimate, weren't they?"

He watches her work, a rare moment of quiet for him. He knows it's mutual, but he's more worried about her right now. That's just the way he's wired. When she's finished, he wiggles his fingers.

He looks down at his clothes. "Honestly, I have no idea, but I don't think all of this blood came from my hands." He should probably wash his clothes. Plausible deniability and all. He knows that Lyds won't sell him out. He knows he can trust her.

Lydia frowns. She'd never sell him out, no, but the fact that he possibly blacked out is more than a little worrying. She lightly traces the outline of a bruise on his neck before wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Maybe you should just stay here for a while." Where she can keep an eye on him. Where Peter can't get to him and where she can try to lessen the pain of losing someone close to him. "You swear no one bit you?"

"Well, I don't got any bite marks, right?" He moves closer, reaching an arm for her to do the same. "You tryin' to get me to move in with you again?"

It's tempting. Honestly, it's so fucking tempting. He doesn't want anything more than to lie here with her and let the world just stop for a while, but Jet and Ghoul need him. He's just across the street, though. He can move back and forth, right? He can watch them all. He doesn't have to choose.

"No. I just got rid of you. Why would I want you back here where you'd probably hook up with disgusting old men in my bed? No. You can just stay for now... and go back home." To your family. She doesn't want to keep them separated. He can visit her any time he wants, but she knows he belongs with them. Pushing him away like that is the only way she knows how to express this.

But the pushing isn't so effective when she's this close to him and leaning up to press a kiss against his neck, just under his jaw.

"Kobra, you need to be more careful. As endearing as your reckless behaviour is, one day it's going to get you--" Right, Lydia. Nice. Great train of thought when his brother just died. "I'm sorry. I ... haven't been-- my head's been fuzzy lately."

He laughs a little, shaking his head and tightening his arms around her. "I'd much rather fuck you in your bed." It's true, too. Yeah, he gets around, but he always comes back, right?

He likes sleeping with her more than anyone else here. She's smart and sexy and a total dynamo in the sack and even when they're not fucking, he just likes being around her.

"I get it, though. You only want me around for jar-opening and fucking and cuddling." He smiles and kisses her temple. "Lucky for you, I am excellent at two of those things. Dan's going to need to take the jars, though."

He tips backwarks onto the bed, pulling her to come with him.

He does. And that's probably why it doesn't bother her as much as it should. She's more worried about his safety in these situations than the fact that he's screwing other people.

And she hates that he can make her laugh when she's worried.

It's not until he pulls her back with him that she realizes how cold she really is. Lydia curls into his side, resting her head against his chest and draping an arm across his stomach. He actually is really good at cuddling. And she needs this. She needs it just as much as he does. She missed him.

"You know the scar on my side? I know you remember it. Why haven't you ever asked where I got it?"

He turns his head, nose brushing her forehead. "We all got our scars, Lyds. We all got a past. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you'd bring it up, but the past doesn't matter. Mine doesn't, anyway, so why should yours?"

He runs his hand up and down her arm, trying to warm her skin. She's so tiny and she's so cold and she looks so fragile now in a way she really never does to him, even when she's sleeping. She's so strong. At least, he thinks so.

He's not used to her being so vulnerable. If she needs him, though, he's here. He'll keep her safe until she feels strong again and then she can keep him safe. That's how they work, right? He wants it to be how they work, anyway.

Kobra can be pretty damn smart sometimes. He doesn't give himself nearly enough credit. To be fair, Lydia hadn't put much stock in him when they first met, but she sees it now. She sighs contentedly and closes her eyes for the first time in about 22 hours.

He's right. She doesn't want to talk about it and it doesn't matter. Not right now. He'd only get worked up and angry and she just wants to stay here like this. If she needs to tell him, she will. If it becomes a problem, he'll be the first to know.

"Stay tonight." At least for tonight. She'll wash the blood off his clothes and keep an eye on him. Just tonight. "Please?"

He hums. "Yeah. Yeah, 'course I'll stay." He'll stay as long as she wants him to. He wants to stay, too. She makes him feel safer. She anchors him to reality and he could really fucking use that right now.

"Let's get under the blankets." She's still so cold and there's only so much warmth he can offer without the help of bedding.

He sits up to tug his blood-stained shirt off and tosses it on the floor. "I'll tell you a story about the coolest little girl who is totally going to grow up to be a firecracker like you."

Stories? She actually looks a little excited at the prospect of stories. Something to take her mind off all this. And she really is cold... practically frozen to the bone! What was she thinking?

She rolls gracefully off the bed and quickly grabs a sweater from the closet to tug over her dress before slipping under the covers. She doesn't settle in until he's beside her where he belongs. "Does this story have a happy ending?"

"I dunno yet, but it's a good story." He wraps his arms around her and pulls the covers up over their shoulders.

"So she's this tiny little crash queen, right? She was lost for a while, but then her family found her. She got to go on all these crazy adventures, too. Like the kind most kids dream of." Nightmares, too, but they tried to protect her from those. "But these other dicks wanted her, too. They were bad people."

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Take a bow and wave...

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