See you again - Stydia

Pray

*winter*

"Still blows my mind that there is life living inside of me." Lydia said, gracing her fingers over her belly.

She was now 6 months pregnant, she didn't look it because she's always been on the smaller side.

Stiles on the other-hand, was just happy to be home, he's been cramming at work, saving up. And he's been busy painting the room that was once his, a neutral color, they decided they didn't want to know. Which he personally hates when people do that, but it's what Lydia wanted. So he agreed.

"Still blows my mind, that half of it is me, and I say it because, dammit I just wanna know what the baby is." He begged, wishing Lydia would quit being so damned stubborn and change her mind. "I hate that ugly yellow." He cringed at the paint color.

They were both covered in paint. "Well you should of said something before we spent all day painting this room." Lydia miffed.

"Whatever." He complained. "As long as you like it."

"I do thank you very much." She stuck her tongue out. "And no."

"No?" He grumbled, as he started to clean out the paint pans, pouring the remaining paint into the gallon.

"We will not find out what it is, because we decided on it. So hush." She growled, whipping back and leaving the room.

"Uh, you mean you decided." He whined. God he loves her sassy ass.

"Ow! What the hell Stiles."

"What?" He ran out from the room, tripping over his own feet.

He saw Lydia fumbled over, sinking to her knees.

"What's wrong?!" He ran to where she was, putting his hand on her back.

"Something doesn't feel right, something hurts." She cried, eyes wincing in pain. "Do something!"

"What do you want me to do? Do you need to go to the hospital?" He panicked, trying to help her up.

She wouldn't move it hurt too much.

"I don't know, what does labor feel like?" She scoffed, hands flying to her stomach.

"How would I know that! Besides you're only like six months?" He said, questioning her and himself. He nodded his head when he did the math.

"Just, I don't know, call 911?"

"Lydia I am 911."

"Really? You're a big red truck with flashing lights?" She said sarcastically.

"What? Lydia that doesn't make sense, but I'll call Melissa, maybe she will know." Scott's mom worked at Beacon Hills hospital, Lydia met her for a brief second, but it's Scott's mom, who doesn't love her?

Lydia nodded, holding onto the coffee table for support, Stiles knelt beside her pulling out his phone dialing Melissa.

Minutes later, an ambulance and firetruck were outside, wheeling Lydia into the ambulance, and Stiles climbing into the back.

"Stiles." Lydia gripped.

"I'm right here." He reached for her hand, and placed his other on her forehead, brushing her hair out of her face.

"I know we're not religious, but you better fucking pray."

And he did.

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1. so this is none of the ideas i got, although i did get a lot, i just thought of this and went with it, i like it.

2. i did ur sarcasm whoever commented that YOU'RE WELCOME BIG RED TRUCK WITH FLASHING LIGHTS.

3. love u guys thanks for helping me with this story, helps a lot!

4. VOTE AND COMMENT

xoxo - caTTTTTT

^ IDK. {SORRY THIS IS SHORT I LIKED THE CLIFF HANGER HEHEH U KNOW HOW IT IS}