Summary: Stiles finds out that he's #1 on Lydia's speed dial.
Author's note: Requested by an anon on tumblr. I hope they get to read this :) Happy holidays 🎁🎄
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"Where the hell is my...?" Stiles mumbles, lifting book after book from the mattress and then dropping them back down unceremoniously, some of his and Lydia's notebooks as well so he can look underneath them to no avail. "Lyds, have you seen my phone?"
Lydia looks briefly over her shoulder at Stiles from where she is sitting at his desk, one of her fingers marking the sentence she was reading before he interrupted her, his voice disrupting her focus on her research on banshee lore. "What?"
"My phone, I can't find it," he murmurs, making his bed more of a disarray than it already was. "I can't remember where I put it."
Lydia has to admit that she didn't like the mess his room was at first - when they started hanging out more halfway through senior year, having nightly research dates as she likes to call them - because Stiles tends to scatter his belongings everywhere when he's working. Now she has learned that he has a method to it, and even though it's not the tidiest one, it's what works for his ADHD and that brilliant mind of his.
Lydia has grown to love it and respect it, more so when Stiles noticed her initial discomfort and started giving her his desk, where he won't put his things whenever she's coming over (which, in truth, is every day) so that Lydia can do as she pleases and be comfortable around him.
The strawberry blonde rolls her eyes at him playfully. "Only you..." she murmurs amused, reaching for her phone with her free hand. "Wait a sec. I'll give you a call."
Lydia returns to her reading all the while typing on her phone distractedly, knowing by heart the movement that her finger has to make to call Stiles' number, and Lydia only realizes that Stiles is gawking when his phone rings and rings and rings and keeps ringing, and Lydia doesn't hear any movement from his part to try and find it.
She turns around on her seat completely to face him. "Stiles?"
He's just staring at her with a stunned expression on his face, unmoving, and Lydia can only return his stare, confused as to why he's still.
"You... You called me..."
"Yeah, I said I was going to," she replies nonchalantly, not understanding his reaction.
"But you didn't dial my number."
"What are you talking about?" she asks, still confused. "Of course I did."
"No," he insists, heart stammering in his chest as he tries his best not to laugh at how effortlessly Lydia did it and how she is not, apparently, aware of that fact. "You didn't dial my number and you didn't look through your phonebook for it either. You just pressed two keys."
Lydia blushes at being caught red-handed. She didn't really realize she'd done it (although she does it all the time, so maybe that's why she doesn't even need to pay attention to what she's doing to call him now), but she wasn't expecting Stiles to notice it either. "I- I did not..."
Stiles gets up from the bed and scampers to her side before Lydia can even acknowledge he even moved. "You did." He snatches her phone away before she can, and Lydia reaches out to try and take it away from him, resulting in Stiles running away from her around the bedroom and Lydia chasing after him not too far behind, childishly trying to catch up with him.
Of course, it ends with Stiles cornered and Lydia on her tiptoes, grabbing at his shirt and laughing. "Give it back."
"Nah-ah," he murmurs, holding her phone high and experimentally trying her speed dial. He's surprised not only to find out that he's right on the first try, but that he's actually the first on her speed dial list. "Oh."
