It's short, it's sweet, it's a filler and it was written and uploaded from my phone (sorry for any grammatical mistakes), but it's an update!
Hope everyone had a lovely Christmas.
Stiles woke up to his dad knocking on his bedroom door and yelling about breakfast onthe table.
He stretched and yawned, moaning into his pillow as the gloomy morning light flooded sleepily into his bedroom. He inhaled strawberries and Lydia's perfume with a sigh.
Lydia.
He bolted upright, his limbs scrambling
ungracefully between the sheets. His tired eyes cleared and he was confused at the sight of the empty space beside him.
The shirt he had given her last night was folded neatly on her vacated pillow and her clothes that had been drying on the radiator had disappeared.
Confused, he slipped out of bed, grabbing a shirt to pull over his head in the process. Stiles' bare feet padded across the floor and he pulled the blinds up, only to groan in response. The grey light shone harshly and he grimaced at the dark, navy clouds above.
He crossed his room and ventured into the hallway, the smell of bacon and coffee invading the house in the most inviting way. He frowned at the bathroom, the open door confirming that Lydia was not in there either.
His foot touched the first stair as his phone beeped from somewhere in his room.
He backtracked, ignoring the sound of coffee being poured as he began to look for his cell underneath his pillow and in the pockets of discarded jeans.
He eventually found it on his bedside cabinet, underneath a school textbook.
"Stiles, woke up early - promised to meet Allison. I'm fine… Thank you for last night x"
He frowned at the glowing screen, his brow furrowing at the thought of her walking to Allison's on her own, instead of asking him for a ride.
He looked dejectedly around his room, all signs of her gone, no trace of her left -including his lacrosse jersey that had been drying overnight. He rubbed a hand over his tired face and tried not to think how he had only five hours sleep last night.
He dropped his phone without typing out a reply and trudged downstairs before his father could yell up at him.
The sheriff stood in his uniform in front of the cooker, watching the bacon pop and fizz whilst he tried to think of the best way to confront his teenaged son.
He had awoken early, just like every morning, to see Lydia sneak of out his sons room and out of their front door for the second time that week - that he knew of.
He was about to yell upstairs when Stiles appeared in the kitchen doorway; looking tired and forlorn.
The younger Stilinski sat at the table, his messy head in his hands as his father placed his breakfast in front of him and then joined his son.
"So, what's going on with you and Lydia?" Sheriff Stilinski peered at his son over the rim of his coffee mug, taking a long sip as Stiles gaped at his father with a slack jaw.
"I don't really know what you're ta-"
"Cut the crap, son - I know she stayed last night".
"I'm aware that you're aware…"
Stiles sighed, stabbing his bacon with fork as his father waited patiently for him to explain.
"It's Lydia, you know?" Stiles was vague but his dad nodded knowingly, chewing on his own breakfast thoughtfully.
"Something happened on valentines day, we were hanging out and well, we kissed and - uh, we kissed", he stuttered and pursed his lips; avoiding his fathers gaze and refusing to divulge more information.
The sheriff raised his eyebrows in surprise, a small smile hiding on his lips, "I see… And that's a good thing, no?" He sipped his coffee, "you've had a thing for Lydia since the fifth grade, right?"
"The third".
Mr Stilinski chuckled and started to butter his toast, presenting Stiles with a slice and asking the obvious question.
"So what's the problem then?"
Stiles sighed and waved his toast around dramatically as he explained: "Well, we've kind of kept it to ourselves. We didn't make a big deal out of it even though I was freaking dying inside", the sheriff laughed again, "And then we kissed again and again and then she turned up last night all sad and weirdly emotional for Lydia and shit, sorry, I don't know what to do". Stiles bit off a piece of toast.
"And then there's Matthew…"
"Who's Matthew?" Stiles' father scrunched up his face in confusion.
"Matthew is a giant douche, Dad".
Mr Stilinski accepted this answer with a nod, placing his empty plate in the sink. He grabbed his car keys and braced himself against the doorway, looking at his son with folded arms.
"And where's Lydia now?"
"Allison's, she bailed on me", Stiles sighed, pushing his food around his plate. His brow furrowed and he thought about the empty space in his bed.
"Go get her, kid", his Dad patted his shoulder and left for work, leaving Stiles with his own thoughts and forgotten breakfast.
Allison came out of her bathroom in a cloud of steam, her hair wrapped in a towel as she pushed last nights homework off of her bed. She sat down with a sigh, turning to her best friend who lay face down on the mattress beside her.
"So, now that I'm awake, are you going to tell me why you turned up at my door at seven thirty on a Saturday morning?"
"Aren't you pleased to see me?" Lydia's voice was muffled by the pillows she hid in and only her auburn that was piled on top of her head could be seen.
"Lydia…"
The banshee huffed and made a deal of turning over, her tiny body still wrapped in the too big jersey that belonged to the boy she woke up beside that morning.
"Allison, I've done a bad thing".
The brunette stopped drying her hair and dropped the damp towel on her lap, turning until she sat cross legged on the bed. She faced Lydia with a confused and worried expression.
"What's wrong." It wasn't a question, but a concerned statement, a demand.
"It's about a boy".
Allison relaxed visibly and reached out to play with a loose strand of Lydia's hair, curling it around her finger.
"You mean that Matthew guy?"
Lydia flopped onto her friends lap, lying across her knees and staring nervously at the plaid pattern of Allison's pyjama pants. She allowed her to play with her hair for a few minutes and Lydia was content in the silence until Allison's pulled sharply on a curl, prodding her to speak.
"That actually hurt, I'll have you know".
"Lydia Martin, you woke me up and if it's got nothing to do with werewolves, it better have been for something good".
"I kissed Stiles".
Allison was quiet and still, Lydia's long, strawberry curl lay dormant in Allison's hand and the girl gaped blankly at her friend.
Silence passed and Lydia fidgeted from her spot on the bed, her head still in the brunettes lap. Allison said nothing so Lydia continued, her voice hesitant and her body warm as her words brought back images from the memories she shared.
"Actually he kissed me, I guess I just told him I wanted him to", she furrowed her brow as she remembered that night, "I suppose we made out a bit, a lot. Then other stuff happened…"
Allison moved so quickly that Lydia was sure she got whiplash. Her head that was supported by her friends legs was sent bouncing down onto the mattress as Allison stood up. Within seconds, the girl had practically straddled the strawberry blonde; her hands on either side of her head as she stared down at her incredulously.
"Are you being serious?"
"Yes, Allison - what're you doing? Oh my god, move-"
"Like, actually one hundred percent serious?"
Lydia stared back at her friend with narrowed eyes, "Yes! Allison, I'm trying to pour my heart out here, would you please get off of me-"
There was a sharp squeal and Lydia saw pillows sail through the air as Allison crashed down beside her with a wide grin.
"Oh my fucking god, tell me everything!"
"I'm trying to!"