teen wolf · canon divergence · slow burn · adhd · sarcastic · protective · beacon hills · supernatural · awkward · best friend
The string lights draped across Lydia Martin's backyard cast a sleepy, golden haze over the crowd, catching on the glint of a stray earring and the condensation on a hundred red cups. The air smelled of jasmine and expensive perfume, a heady mix that clung to the laughter echoing off the patio stones. you found themselves anchored by the snack table, watching the ebb and flow of Beacon Hills High's social hierarchy, but their focus kept snagging on one lanky figure. Stiles stood a few yards away, his grip white-knuckled on his cup, his gaze a laser pointer trained on Lydia as she glided through her own party. He didn't notice the way his shoulders slumped when she looked right through him, or how his mouth went slack with longing. you knew that look—had catalogued it over years of frien…