Because I Can't Lose You (a Stydia story){complete}

13. Skip a beat

Stiles pov😉:
"By the way Scott, did you know that Allison wet the bed until she was thirteen?" I ask, dropping the two off at Scott's house. Allison gasps, throwing her movie soda at my jeep as I drive away. Can soda chip paint?

I shake the odd thought from my head as I continue my journey to ye old stump. Ten minutes later and I found myself in my usual spot, lying across the ridges of my safe place and staring up at the slowly fading sky.
"Why are you always out in the woods, creep?" Suddenly Lydia appears in my vision and I playfully roll my eyes, sitting up. She'd already asked me that before.

She takes her place next to me, both of our legs stretched out straight as we lean back on our hands. Her head lay on my shoulder, gently.
"It's beautiful and calm out here...it reminds me of you." I say. I was dropping hints faster than a ticking time bomb but Lydia didn't seem to notice.

"Do you still need to write your rough draft?" She asks and I nod.
"You?" I ask back.
She sighs. "Wanna go back to your place. We could work together, in a way. Swap synonyms or whatever." She suggests. I laugh but agree.

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Lydia's pov:
"I before E except after C is a shit rule. There are like... Twelve words that work against it." Stiles complains, pen resting above his half written essay. He sat at his desk, practically pulling his hair out because of this freaking rough draft.

"Like what?" I ask, popping a Reese's Pieces in my mouth, finishing off one of my own sentences as I lay on Stiles bed, feet crossed in the air with my stomach face down. He turns around in his chair.
"Feisty, weird," he starts to count off on his fingers. "glacier, concierge, caffeine-"
"I hope you aren't using all of those in the same sentence." I laugh, interrupting Stiles.

He purses his lips, turning back to his paper and scribbling something down. I glance at the clock on his desk. 11:30. We'd been working for two hours and I only had half a page. I sigh, taking a Reese's Pieces out of the box and chucking it at the back of Stiles' head. Swiftly, he turns around opening his mouth wide. I throw another one and it lands perfectly in his mouth and he eats it proudly causing me to laugh.

"I have to pee." He says abruptly, standing and going into the bathroom. He closes the door and after a moment, the sound of him peeing fills the room and I roll my eyes.
"You have a highlighter?" I shout. Stiles sighs loudly, his flow not stopping.
"Desk!" He replies blandly.

I hop from his bed, searching several cups full of pens and pencils. But then my eyes flicker over his essay.
I love her.
I couldn't help myself. Though it was none of my business, I started to read.

We're supposed to write a fictional story about forbidden love, something that will never live up to Shakespeare's work. The thing is, I already have a forbidden love. I don't need to make one up.
The thing is, I can't tell you who she is. But I love her. I really do love her. The only problem is, she's falling in love with someone else and this guy is a jerk. Maybe I should tell her but what's the point? I would ruin our friendship because I know she'll never love me back.
It pains me to see her with someone else. Someone who won't care about her as much as I do.

I don't finish reading because Stiles steps out of the bathroom. I quickly grab a highlighter from his desk and make my way back to the bed. Stiles was in love with someone?

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Stiles pov:
After another five minutes of trying to write, we decide to give up and pull an all nighter. Lydia, being the neat-freak she is, decided to clean my room. I lay on my bed, tossing a lacrosse ball in the air while Lydia was under the bed, pulling out my clutter of lost things.

"What the hell is this?" Lydia stands in disgust, holding a a Playboy magazine between two fingers. I sit up, a grin plastered to my face as I grab it from her.
"Hey! I was looking for this the other night." I chuckle, flipping through a couple of the pages. Lydia fake throws up before returning to her search under my bed.

There's a light moan outside my bedroom door and Lydia reemerges from the floor, both of us giving the other an odd expression. I race over o my door, Lydia behind me, and swing it open to reveal Scott attaching Allison's neck with his lips. They jump away from each other and I go to step towards Scott but Lydia grabs my arm.

"What are you doing here?" Allison asks, fixing her ruffled appearance.
"Uh, in case you forgot I freaking live here." I snap sarcastically. The sound of the front door opening comes to ear and all four of us look towards the stairs. A thought only someone purely evil could think of comes to my mind and I bolt down the steps and into the kitchen.

"DAD!" I yell, hearing the others follow behind me. The sheriff rolls his eyes, turning towards us.
"I've been home for two seconds, hurry this up." He sighs.
I push Allison to the front of the group.
"Your daughter was about to have sex." I deadpan and Allison's mouth drops open.

"Was not!" She objects.
"You moaned. I bet Scott Jr is just dying back there." I argue, gesturing to Scott in the back. Allison groans, throwing her head back in frustration. The room goes silent, our father looking between all four of us.

"Scott and Allison are a thing now?" Dad asks and I nod. "No one tells me anything..." He's speaking mostly to himself. His eyes snap back to me. "Does that mean you and Lydia?" He asks and everyone responds with the muttering of no's.
"Stiles wants it to be, though." Allison mumbles and I elbow her in the side, praying no one heard her remark.

My dad sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Scott, Stiles' room. Lydia, Allison's room. Me, tv and bed. Goodnight." Dad states before walking back to his room. That was it? He must've had a hard case otherwise he'd go of on Allison and I and send Scott home.

The four of us trudge upstairs silently, breaking off into our separate rooms.
"Dude, I'm really-" Scott begins to apologize but I cut him off.
"Shut up and follow me." I grumble. We both walk into the bathroom connected to my room and I open a drawer in the counter.
I pull out a box of condoms, opening the sealed package and handing one to him.

"Just...don't get her pregnant." I groan, returning the box to its place. Scott stares at me, astonished, the small square of foil still between his fingers. I brush past him, back into my room and it seems to wake him up as he quickly shoves the protection in his pocket.

"That box was new?" He states, more of a question and I roll my eyes, sitting in my desk chair.
"I'm a virgin, que the jokes." I glare at him. He smiles slightly, a silent chuckle slipping past his lips before clearing his throat.

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Authors note:
In case you haven't figured it out yet, ye old stump is the nemeton...😐 just thought I'd mention that.

So Stilessssssss. Did anyone freak out at the end? When it switched back to his pov and it got like really (kinda/not really) sexual?

I just really wanted some comedy cause it's bout to get REAL. SHITS GOING DOWN.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe