9. + 31. Lydia/Izzy? No Worries If You Don't Want To Or Can't Think Of Something X

9. + 31. Lydia/Izzy? no worries if you don't want to or can't think of something x

9. “You’re in love with her”

31. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you.”

Thank you so much for this prompt! I adore writing Lydia/Izzy and this kind of cured my writers block. I hope you like it!!

Isabelle wrenches herself away from the werewolf woman she’d been kissing. The club’s bass rings loud in her ears and the woman looks back at Izzy in confusion.

Izzy blinks against the darkness. The woman is pretty, beautiful even. Blonde hair falling over her eyes and the hint of a smile on full lips.

She reminds Izzy too much of what she’s losing.

“I—I’m sorry, I need to go,” Izzy gets out feeling like she can barely breathe.

The woman takes the rejection easily enough, nodding and letting Izzy walk off the dance floor. Izzy all but collapses against the bar, trying to take a deep breath.

Fucking hell.

She is Isabelle Lightwood. She should not be this undone by one girl. One stupid girl who was never going to stay. Izzy knew that from the start, and yet somehow she’d let herself fall anyway.

“Alec said you’d be here.”

Izzy spins around and her heart jumps into her throat when she finds Lydia standing next to her at the bar.

Fucking Alec. He needs to leave this alone. “Alec’s an ass who should mind his own business.” Izzy retorts, looking anywhere but Lydia’s face.

“Isabelle—“

Izzy gasps in a breath that’s more painful than it should be. “Don’t Isabelle me,” she grits out, “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I know.”

It’s all she says. Nothing about the past five months. About how in these last few weeks Izzy had felt like maybe something had changed. That maybe this wasn’t just about the sex. Obviously she’d been the only one.

“So, nothing matters,” Izzy gets out, “It was just for fun. We had our fun. Now you’re leaving. It’s fine.”

You’re in love with her. Izzy’s brain supplies. She wishes it would shut up.

Izzy still refuses to look at her. She can’t. She can’t look into Lydia’s eyes and delude herself into thinking she sees any sort of affection there. No. Not again.

“Izzy, look at me,” Lydia’s hand on Izzy’s arm feels like fire and Izzy almost pulls herself away. “Iz please, we need to talk about this.”

Anger lights, hot and feral in Izzy’s chest. Why does Lydia get to remain rational? Izzy feels like the world is falling apart and Lydia can just stand here, hand steady on Izzy’s arm. It’s not fair.

Izzy finally looks at her.

“What do you want me to say, Lyds? That I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you?”

Lydia actually looks pained at that. Good. Let her feel some pain for once. Izzy’s been bearing this all on her own the past weeks and she’s not sure she has room for any more.

She doesn’t even care that she’s probably said too much. Revealed too much. It doesn’t matter anyway. Lydia is still leaving tomorrow.

“Izzy,” Lydia says, wrapping fingers around Izzy’s wrist. They press against Izzy’s pulse point, a familiar intimate gesture that Izzy had thought actually meant something at one point.

Izzy closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at Lydia’s face. She knows she’ll find affection there and that’s the problem. Lydia does care about her, just not in the way Izzy wants.

Lydia tugs on Izzy’s arm and Izzy surrenders to it because she’s weak and if this is the last time she gets to have Lydia, she’s going to take it. Wordlessly, she lets herself be pulled into a kiss that is both sweet and heartbreaking all at once.

When they pull apart, Lydia’s hands come up to cup Izzy’s face, keeping her close.

“What are you doing?” Izzy demands.

“Getting you to listen for one goddamn second,” Lydia says. Her thumb swipes over Izzy’s bottom lip and she lets out a breath that ghosts over Izzy’s chin.

Izzy steels herself for the rejection. Of the apology that Lydia can’t be what Izzy wants. Because surely, if she hadn’t known already she knows now that Izzy loves her. Izzy waits for the ‘I’m sorry I don’t love you the way you want.’

“I’m in love with you, Isabelle Lightwood.” Is what Lydia says instead.

Her eyes remain trained on Izzy, bright and defiant. Izzy has spent hours watching Lydia, trying to memorize every bit of her. “You—“ Izzy starts, floored, “you’re not lying.”

Lydia lets out a breathy laugh, pressing their foreheads together. “Of course I’m not lying. I am stupidly in love with you,” she says, “I have been for a long time now.”

Izzy scrambles to get her thoughts in order. This is not what she’d expected.

“But you’re leaving,” she blurts out.

Lydia goes back to Idris tomorrow morning. Her five month long stint at the New York Institute to help Alec out is over and she’s going back to Idris and the life waiting for her there. They’d just been friends with benefits. Izzy had believed that once Lydia was gone, it was all over.

“I know I’m leaving,” Lydia says, “but that doesn’t mean this has to end. I want to do this right this time. Not just hookups. I want real. With you. If you’ll have me.”

Izzy huffs a quiet laugh, not quite believing it. “Of course I’ll have you.”

Lydia smiles so wide that Izzy’s heart expands in her chest. This time she smiles into the kiss Lydia pulls her into.