"You don't have to be. You do have to watch and, if you're confused, ask questions, but you're absolutely allowed to be intoxicated. I don't care about that," she replies.
With a sigh, Lydia nods. "Yeah. I'm a lifer, but for a different reason. I just...in case she comes back. I need to be here in case she comes back while the portals are working properly again. It used to be really messed up and like sometimes, you'd wake up and your roommate and all their shit would just be gone, poof. Now, sometimes people show up unexpectedly, but nobody gets zapped back out again unless they physically go to the portal and walk through. I keep hoping someday, it'll pull her back in and I don't want her to be alone, if it does. You know...?"
She watches the way he studies the phone with interest as he eats the strawberries, skipping the hummus. "You haven't lived until you've dipped that in the chocolate, you know. Unless you don't like or are allergic to chocolate, in which case I'm not sure we can safely be friends because I'm an addict," she tells him, trying to add a little levity back into the conversation.
Eddie decides on pizza but before she can even start to look at the options to choose their restaurant, he changes his mind. Her eyes lift to meet his face again and her jaw slackens with surprise when she realizes that he's pushed the strawberries back toward her and she thinks maybe she's upset him by asking.
"I'm not asking you to talk about it, sorry, I should've been more clear. I was just trying to open the door in case you felt like you needed or wanted to get it out of your system. If you never want to talk about it, I'm fine with that. It's none of my business," she says apologetically. "But yeah, there are clothes in your room if you want to change."
He smirks, nodding thoughtfully. "Alright, then. I guess you've got a date, roomie."
His grin fades as she goes on, his expression sobering into something more sympathetic. He understands why she'd want to be there, especially if this is the only place her friend can actually be alive. "All, I know," he says, giving her a sad smile. "Is if I had a friend like you, I'd find my way back."
He doesn't know her, not really, but he knows what it's like to feel that kind of longing for someone to come back. To be afraid to move on, in case they show up out of the blue and you're not there. He finds himself hoping that Lydia will get her wish someday.
"Allergic to chocolate?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Is that allowed?" As if to prove that he's not against it, he dips a smaller strawberry into the chocolate and pops it into his mouth.
"It's okay, queenie," he says, giving her a half smile. "It'll come spilling out of me someday, but for now I just want that shower and some clean clothes that don't smell of death and desperation." He pauses. "You don't have to hold my hand if you've got other things to do."
Lydia gives him a sad smile, and nods, her eyes down as she lifts her fingers to pick at her nails. "She will," she says, although she's not entirely sure whether she's trying to convince Eddie...or herself. She meets his eyes again. "Someday, she will."
She has to have faith in that or she's not sure she can live with the fact that she's lost her best friend; her sister twice and, in neither instance had she been able to tell her how much she loved her or even so much as say goodbye.
"Not in this apartment, it isn't," she says with a small smile. Her eyes are still missing it slightly, her thoughts still caught up in Allison for the moment. "See? Who said hummus is for hippies, anyway? Give it a dark chocolate spin and some strawberries to dip in it...honey, that's decadence," she adds with a smirk, coming back to the present.
Her eyebrows lift with slight incredulity. "Yeah, I was so busy with my post-nap reading..." she says with a playful hint of sarcasm. "I can leave you to it, though, if you just want to get a shower, some clean clothes, and some rest. If you change your mind about the pizza, say the word. I can order it and a Dasher will get t here in twenty minutes, give or take. Okay?"
"Got it," he says, giving her a nod. The idea of a shower, clothes and some sleep sounds like heaven, which he supposes this might be the closest thing to for him. He'll take what he can get.
Still, he sits there a moment longer, watching her. "How many roommates exactly, have you had?"
He gets the impression that this isn't new to her. Not by the way she seems to know exactly what he needs. Not by the lack of judgement and the sympathy coming off of her. He's not the first she's said these things to. Not by a long shot.
Lydia's smile falters a little and she looks down, shrugging. "Oh geez, I don't know, enough. I've been here for a couple of years, now, so a handful," she replies. It's always hard to have someone new come in because Lydia gets attached to them and then before the portal was fixed — which wasn't fast enough for Allison, unfortunately — they'd disappear again.
Her eyebrows lift a little with curiosity. "Why? Just curious or something?"
"You seem pretty used to this." There's a touch of sensitivity to the comment. He can imagine being here for years and seeing people come and go must get pretty hard. Especially, when one of those people is the best friend that died for you. Lydia's helpfulness feels a little like loneliness.
"Well, I hope you like loud music," he says, giving her a crooked grin and leaning forward. "We both know I don't have anywhere to go, so I'm hanging around for a while. I'm either the man of your dreams or your worst nightmare. There's usually no inbetween."
Shrugging, Lydia smiles a little. "Yeah, well...between my roommates and people on the network, I've given the schpiel a few times," she confirms. People come, people go. In life. In Eglaf. It just is what it is.
Her eyebrows lift. "I think that depends on the music and the mood I happen to be in at any given time," she points out with a soft huff of amusement. "You don't seem very nightmarish to me. Believe me, sweetie, I know nightmare men. You don't give me that vibe."
She's thinking, of course, of Peter Hale, who quite literally haunted her dreams to get her to use Derek's alpha bite against his will to bring Peter back to life. She's had to trust him unwillingly a time or two for the greater good, but Peter Hale is her worst nightmare to this day, if she has to pin the worst nightmare trope on a single person.
She gestures toward him and makes a vaguely thoughtful sound. "It's giving...lovable misfit. That's my crowd back home. Hell, I've become a lovable misfit, but that's a different story for a different day."
He huffs, not sure if he should be offended at so quickly being written off as not the nightmarish type. "Maybe I'm losing my touch," he says, raising his eyebrows and winking at her.
He tilts his head and grins at her. "Well, I think both of those things apply to me, though you might be the first to put them together. Most people back home just call me a freak." He looks her over and then gives her a small nod. "I can't wait to hear that one."
He grins and then points over his shoulder. "All right. I'm going to fuck off. I'll catch you later, your majesty."
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With a sigh, Lydia nods. "Yeah. I'm a lifer, but for a different reason. I just...in case she comes back. I need to be here in case she comes back while the portals are working properly again. It used to be really messed up and like sometimes, you'd wake up and your roommate and all their shit would just be gone, poof. Now, sometimes people show up unexpectedly, but nobody gets zapped back out again unless they physically go to the portal and walk through. I keep hoping someday, it'll pull her back in and I don't want her to be alone, if it does. You know...?"
She watches the way he studies the phone with interest as he eats the strawberries, skipping the hummus. "You haven't lived until you've dipped that in the chocolate, you know. Unless you don't like or are allergic to chocolate, in which case I'm not sure we can safely be friends because I'm an addict," she tells him, trying to add a little levity back into the conversation.
Eddie decides on pizza but before she can even start to look at the options to choose their restaurant, he changes his mind. Her eyes lift to meet his face again and her jaw slackens with surprise when she realizes that he's pushed the strawberries back toward her and she thinks maybe she's upset him by asking.
"I'm not asking you to talk about it, sorry, I should've been more clear. I was just trying to open the door in case you felt like you needed or wanted to get it out of your system. If you never want to talk about it, I'm fine with that. It's none of my business," she says apologetically. "But yeah, there are clothes in your room if you want to change."
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His grin fades as she goes on, his expression sobering into something more sympathetic. He understands why she'd want to be there, especially if this is the only place her friend can actually be alive. "All, I know," he says, giving her a sad smile. "Is if I had a friend like you, I'd find my way back."
He doesn't know her, not really, but he knows what it's like to feel that kind of longing for someone to come back. To be afraid to move on, in case they show up out of the blue and you're not there. He finds himself hoping that Lydia will get her wish someday.
"Allergic to chocolate?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Is that allowed?" As if to prove that he's not against it, he dips a smaller strawberry into the chocolate and pops it into his mouth.
"It's okay, queenie," he says, giving her a half smile. "It'll come spilling out of me someday, but for now I just want that shower and some clean clothes that don't smell of death and desperation." He pauses. "You don't have to hold my hand if you've got other things to do."
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She has to have faith in that or she's not sure she can live with the fact that she's lost her best friend; her sister twice and, in neither instance had she been able to tell her how much she loved her or even so much as say goodbye.
"Not in this apartment, it isn't," she says with a small smile. Her eyes are still missing it slightly, her thoughts still caught up in Allison for the moment. "See? Who said hummus is for hippies, anyway? Give it a dark chocolate spin and some strawberries to dip in it...honey, that's decadence," she adds with a smirk, coming back to the present.
Her eyebrows lift with slight incredulity. "Yeah, I was so busy with my post-nap reading..." she says with a playful hint of sarcasm. "I can leave you to it, though, if you just want to get a shower, some clean clothes, and some rest. If you change your mind about the pizza, say the word. I can order it and a Dasher will get t here in twenty minutes, give or take. Okay?"
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Still, he sits there a moment longer, watching her. "How many roommates exactly, have you had?"
He gets the impression that this isn't new to her. Not by the way she seems to know exactly what he needs. Not by the lack of judgement and the sympathy coming off of her. He's not the first she's said these things to. Not by a long shot.
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Her eyebrows lift a little with curiosity. "Why? Just curious or something?"
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"Well, I hope you like loud music," he says, giving her a crooked grin and leaning forward. "We both know I don't have anywhere to go, so I'm hanging around for a while. I'm either the man of your dreams or your worst nightmare. There's usually no inbetween."
no subject
Her eyebrows lift. "I think that depends on the music and the mood I happen to be in at any given time," she points out with a soft huff of amusement. "You don't seem very nightmarish to me. Believe me, sweetie, I know nightmare men. You don't give me that vibe."
She's thinking, of course, of Peter Hale, who quite literally haunted her dreams to get her to use Derek's alpha bite against his will to bring Peter back to life. She's had to trust him unwillingly a time or two for the greater good, but Peter Hale is her worst nightmare to this day, if she has to pin the worst nightmare trope on a single person.
She gestures toward him and makes a vaguely thoughtful sound. "It's giving...lovable misfit. That's my crowd back home. Hell, I've become a lovable misfit, but that's a different story for a different day."
no subject
He tilts his head and grins at her. "Well, I think both of those things apply to me, though you might be the first to put them together. Most people back home just call me a freak." He looks her over and then gives her a small nod. "I can't wait to hear that one."
He grins and then points over his shoulder. "All right. I'm going to fuck off. I'll catch you later, your majesty."