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Most people thought Stiles was in love with Lydia.
He wasn't but he did not have it in him to correct them. Because the truth is not a fact that is easy to explain.
Stiles didn't love Lydia...he wanted to eat her.
To consume her.
Bite by bite.
Digest her completely until she became a part of him.
Once again....not easy to explain.
He was five years old when it happened, in Mrs. Millmills class playing with Scott with trucks and dolls. The doll was about to throw a dynamite at the truck (his mortal enemy) finally ending the thousand year battle between dolls and trucks. When Mrs. Millmills called the class attention, there was a new volunteer for story time, thus their game ended before its climax.
He was a big kid, an eleven year old, with dark hair and a shy smile. They were naturally enthralled with him, Lydia more than others. So when Mrs. Millmills left the class to get the book for story time, she walked up to him, strawberry curls bouncing and started to talk to him. Lydia was always confident. A precious smile on her face and something in Stiles tightened.
He never noticed her before but he did then. And for some reason, he wanted to bite her and eat her then and there. He wanted her blood running down his chin, shove his fingers in her eyes until they burst then lick the bloody cream off his fingers.
He might have, had Scott's truck not launched a sneak attack. She threw a ball bomb at the doll, blowing him up and knocking Stiles down. The trucks won the war that day. Then Mrs. Millmills came back with the book in hand and Lydia was forced to sit with everyone else in the listening circle. The big boy sat at the edge, facing them all, and began to tell the story. It was about a girl trying to save her village from a wicked prince. Something in Stiles loosened as he listened to the other's voice.
He told his mother that night when she was tucking him in. Moonlight streaming through the window, the faint sound of howls in the distance. She scratched her chin, a habit when she is thinking of the best way to answer. He liked it when she did that, because the answer was always funny or amazing.
"You want something she has," was the response, "And the best way for us, is to devour."
He didn't understand why, did that mean he would want to eat Scott? But Scott was his best friend and if he ate Scott, Scott wouldn't be alive anymore and he couldn't be Stile's friend if he wasn't alive anymore!
She patted his head, a small chuckle from her lips, "I doubt it," she smiled, "You're so young...when you get older it will be easier."
His mother never talked about her family, the one she left behind. "They wanted me to choose," she explained once upon a time, lying on the bed beside him, waiting for him to fall asleep. "'Them or me?’ your grandpa screamed, 'Me or them?'"
"Who did you choose?" he asked, slumber threatening to take him over.
She flashed a grin, "Us, of course"
It was hard at first, not to pounce and consume but he did. But the urge became an obsession that he played off as a crush. He had a plan, if he could make her fall in love with him, it would be easier to get her, to eat her. But Lydia was smarter than she let on, and though he doubted she knew his true intentions, she stayed away from him. Ignoring him in the hallways, no matter how hard he tried. The need lessened as the years went by but he still couldn't figure out what he wanted from her.
When Stiles was ten years old, he killed someone for the first time. He didn't know why but he did. She was an older woman with smiles that hid fangs and soft blonde hair. He saw her one day when hanging at the neighbourhood pool with Scott and Isaac. She was talking through the fence to a tall lanky male with dark hair, a teen he always saw but didn't know. She laughed, but her eyes were cold, before leaving with a saunter.
Something in Stiles tightened so much that for a brief moment, he thought it might snap.
He told his mother.
He did not know the woman but Beacon Hills is small and it doesn't take long for him to find her. He approached her with tears in his eyes and claw marks on his arm. She gave him a flower, and he took it with ease. Satisfied, he showed her where he was attacked, deep in the forest, so deep it took them hours to reach. When she got thirsty, he gave her water.
They finally reached the clearing and the moment she turned her back, he took a thick branch and hit her. She went down quick, the poison taking effect. Grabbing a rock, he smash her head until it was a blood covered mess. He stared at the corpse; he did not want to eat her. In fact, the mere thought of it made him want to vomit.
His mother stepped from behind the trees, humming softly as she walked to him. He looked at her, confusion on his face.
"She has nothing you want, “She answered, flicking the dagger in her hand, "She was more a threat than a rival, and threats must be removed."
She stooped down, the blade pointing at her neck, "Do you want her skull?" she offered.
He shook his head, but he took her heart.
They didn't hide the body; in fact, his mother left it at the more dangerous side of town. "Better for the wolves if we did," she mumbled when he asked. The effect of the body being found was like a tidal wave.
There was a sense of tension that nearly consumed the town and Stiles finally found out her name. Her name was Katherine Argent, daughter of the Gerard Argent. Accusations were thrown at the Hale family for some reason but the corners (a private one that Gerard insisted on having) stated that she had died at a time that made it impossible for them since every single one of them were at their eldest son's lacrosse game. He asked if it was an animal attack but there was no evidence of that, it was very much human.
Stiles was sixteen when everything finally made sense. He was sixteen when he finally understood why he had to kill Kate, why he wanted to eat Lydia and would never eat Scott. He was strolling through the woods singing under his breath, a song he made at his mother's insistence, It's tradition.
"Katherine, Katie, Kate
Filled with so much hate.
Tried to steal,
What was claimed.
Now she sleeps,
In a grave."
There was a snap of a branch behind him and when he turned to see a familiar man with dark hair standing, so gorgeous that it made Stile's mouth dry. A sour expression on his face as he folded his arms, "This is private property," the man growled but Stiles is too stunned to answer. His first instinct is to run, to hide and usually he would obey but it was at that moment where it all fell into place.
"Ah..." he answered, a cheerful grin on his face, “I’m lost." he lied with ease. The man raised an eyebrow, "Uh-huh?" but didn't call him out on his bluff.
"What's your name?" Stiles asked as they walked side by side, "Mine is Stiles Stilinski" he got another eyebrow raise, a judgemental one at that,"well it's not my real name. I swear they make up symbols to use in the spelling. The only one who can pronounce it is Mum and occasionally Dad when I get in trouble. He has to be really upset though like the time I accidentally set off the fire alarm at school because it is a mouthful. Mum hardly gets upset though but when she does, she's waaaay more-"
"Derek." The man interrupted, "Derek Hale."
Stiles smiled, something inside him fluttered to a point he thought it might burst.
"Nice to meet you, Derek Hale"
And the need to eat Lydia was gone, just like that.
Stiles is twenty when he binds with Derek, the way his mother and father did. And though she denied her family, his mother did not deny their traditions, even if she did not enforce them. The tattoo is inked on his left wrist and on Derek's right. The ink is mixed with wolfs bane and a drop of blood from each of their parents. It shines for a moment when the ceremony is done.
He is good friends with Lydia, best friends with Scott and is in his second year of university in New York. Derek is working at a prominent law firm which, by coincidence, is also in New York.
He was seventeen when Derek told him that he and his family were werewolves.
Derek was twenty-five when Stiles told him what he and his mother were. (They had no name, they just were)
Derek knows how he killed Kate, how he did it for Derek, to protect his mate, his other. He looked at him differently, but it is the same way he looks at him now, with love and respect on a level higher than Stiles thought possible.
Derek kisses him, he tastes like night and apples. Next time when the moon is full, they will marry the way wolves do but tonight there will only be celebrations and feasting with family and joy.