Stydia one-shots

27. Sleeping

The cold reminded him of the fifth grade, when Scott would fake a cigarette between his fingers then blow a puff of breath between them. Stiles subconsciously did so (minus the finger cigarette part), watching the little cloud slowly disappear as he checked his phone again. Shit it was cold. He could already imagine the warmth of her bed, the dip in the middle already comfortable from where she'd been laying awake before he sent her a text.

When the door opened, she didn't even bother to see if it was anyone but him. Her sweater was too fluffy and her yawn just a little wider than it had been a few hours ago. As though it was routine, he slipped off his shoes, locked the front door, and followed her upstairs. She didn't wait for him, already climbing back into her bed. And he was in sweats and an old t-shirt with car grease on it but he still wondered why she wore athletic shorts when her room felt like it was in the negatives.

She slept in the middle, just like he did, so space between them had been called off a long time ago.
"When's the last time you dreamed." He whispered and Lydia groaned. He was here so they could both fall asleep.
"A good dream?" She questioned anyway. He nodded against his pillow. Pondering what he had said, she took her time to get comfortable around him. Her head was tucked under his chin, one of her legs in between both of his, her hands and arms squished between they're  chests (she could hear his heartbeat).

But she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good dream since Eichen. He agreed and said he hadn't had one since they had found him a month ago. The room seemed to get darker, the moon doing nothing as barely any light shone through her window, and he found he could no longer see her face. He shivered.
"Why don't you have the heat on?"
She answered back sleepily. "I like the cold."
Her toes were frozen but she snuck them under the ends of his sweatpants causing him to breath in deeply and hold her closer if possible.

His hand, the one at her hip, slipped a little under the sweater, allowing his thumb to run circles against her porcelain skin. It was something soothing she'd always thanked him for doing, a little nothing that helped unconsciousness come faster. The sun was bright when he woke. She was still sleeping and he debated staying but she was coming over that night anyway.

His doorbell rang just as the sun was going down, the sound of the door opening telling him he didn't need to go downstairs and let her in.
"Hey." She smiled and set a chocolate milk down on his desk where he sat. He grinned because her notions were that of a six year old. He wasn't complaining.

"You're here early." He stated. A shrug of the shoulders, a flop against his bed, a sigh against the sheets.
"Yeah, I figured we could watch a movie or something." She sat up watching his brows furrow causing her to wonder why his eyes had widened a little. "Not Star Wars." She added before it was too late.

So he told her she could pick the movie while he made the popcorn, subtly dragging his hand across her back as he passed by her to get to the door. He chuckled once downstairs because maybe she didn't remember she was wearing his jersey. It was the one she had found in his bedroom when he had gone missing. The one she didn't directly say (but implied) she had slept with while they were figuring a way to bring him back.

"So what are we watching?" He asked. She was already buried beneath his pillows and a blanket he knew had previously been in his closet somewhere, staring at the intro to what looked like some eighties rom-com. And it was. Sighing, he sat next to her and yanked his sleeping pillow out from behind her, muttering something along the lines of "mine" or "you know the rules" but she wasn't really paying attention.

Because his hand had found hers in the mess of blankets, his palm on the back of her hand and his fingers tapping each of hers in chronological order. He payed no mind to this action, didn't give it a second thought (already invested in the movie and eating the popcorn). Lydia, on the other hand, couldn't help but watch him. A laugh at something one of the characters had said made her smile.

"Hey, Lydia, this movie isn't half bad." He turned to her with the excitement of a little child before grinning back at the tv screen. Nodding, she rested her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to eventually doze off.

When she woke, he was still sleeping, a snore that wasn't even remotely soft nor quiet leaving his mouth. He shifted and pulled her closer, her nose prodding his chest and she laughed quietly. She was glad he was sleeping for once. It had taken the boy a while after his nogitsune days and something about being in the underworld had had a similar effect.
"You don't have to pretend to be asleep." His eyes were still closed.
"I wasn't."
"Then good."
She could hear the laugh in his tone.

"So..." He sighed as she was leaving, still not commenting on how she looked draped in his jersey. "Your place or mine tonight?"
Laughing at his words, she checked the time on her phone. "Mine. My mom will be out of town this weekend so we can get ice cream and make forts in the living room."
"Sounds affectionately pleasurable."
She smiled again and waved him goodbye.

He showed up at her doorstep with two jackets on and a tub of triple flavored ice cream in his hands. It was slightly later than he'd ever shown up but that explained the ice cream as an apology. Lydia had set up a tent in the living room, moving the couch out of the way so there would be enough room. He questioned what happens to building forts and she complained this was easier.

"Don't you miss being a kid?" She asked, their heads on the same pillow staring at ceiling of the tent, not laying next to each other but on opposite sides. They passed the ice cream back and forth, Stiles getting a spoonful of strawberry and vanilla while Lydia opted for chocolate and strawberry. He thought of his childhood briefly.
"Not really. I mean, occasionally but not right now at least."
Her brows furrowed. "Why only right now?"

He sighed and rolled over, leaning on his elbows. "Because right now I'm in Lydia Martin's house, laying next to her in a tent that she set up in the living room and we're talking about whatever the hell is on our minds. . .and you know ten years ago I wouldn't be doing this, I'd be dreaming about being friends with you. Now, I can't picture
myself being anywhere else."
She smiled, agreeing with him. Laying back down, he sighed. There they sleep. Cause after everything, Lydia being In Eichen, Stiles being gone, they were always so damn tired. But neither could really sleep without the other.
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Authors note:

Oh look I updated for once, I know, I'm a piece of shit I'm sorry.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe