Girl Meets World One Shots

The Forest Air, His Words and That Smile // Stydia

She finds him parked in an empty parking lot on the edge of town. It was dark, much later than he usually was out, but he had his feet up on the steering wheel, his head thrown back over the headrest, eyes closed. Stiles had plugged his headphones into his ears, blasting his music so loud that she could hear it as she pulled the jeep's car door open silently. Lydia slid into the passenger's seat and shut the door, pushing each shoe off and plopping her bare feet on the dusty dashboard. She crossed her arms over her chest and let her head fall to the side, glancing over at him, enjoying how peaceful he looked for the first time in a long time.

"Dude, you really should lock your doors." She uttered, hoping it was loud enough to get his attention. His eyes flew open and he ripped the headphones out of his ears, glaring at her.

"Shit, Lyds, what the hell. How did you get in here? And how did you find me, anyways?" I giggled and watched as he wrapped the cords around his phone and dropped it into the drink holder before turning his attention back to me.

"You left your doors unlocked, and you weren't paying attention. It was easy. And anyways, I know you well enough to know that you would be here. It's the place that you go, ever since you got this goddamned jeep. And your dad called me to ask if I could talk to you. He said you seemed out of it when you left." He nodded at me, looking down at his lap.

"What are you doing out here, Stiles? What's going on with you?"

"I had one of the dreams again. I woke up at 11 from one of the dreams and I couldn't stay in that house. That house where my mom spent months losing her mind, that house where my dad drank himself into oblivion, that house that Malia stayed with me before she left. I couldn't. The bad memories outweigh the good ones."

"You okay?" She asked quietly, resisting the urge to reach over and grab his hand in hers. He shook his head, blinking quickly to stop the tears forming on his lashes. Running a hand under both eyes quickly to catch any stray tears, he looked out at the darkened sky with a look in his eyes that Lydia couldn't quite place. She fumbled around in the dark, searching for the button to roll down her window. Beacon Hills in July was always overheated and sticky, and the only time Lydia liked the temperature was late at night, when the blanket thrown over the town cast a cooling force. Directly beside the car stood the beginning of the forest, and the open window  let in the rapidly cooling air into the piece of metal they sat in. The sweet smell of pine needles tickled her nose, making the car smell like the forest instead of curly fries like usual. She looked out at the stars, several blinking out as she watched. Above her, the moon sat, hung in the sky, shining over everything underneath her. Allison was her moon, lighting the sky. But when she died, her moon disappeared, leaving her stars (Stiles, Scott, Kira, her mom) to dimly light the night sky in her place. Every night, Lydia would look for her moon in the blank space it once hung.

"I say we talk for a little while longer, and when you're ready, we can go back to your house and play videogames until the sun comes up. What do you say?"

"I say what happened to the Lydia Martin I know and love? But yes, of course, I would love to do that with you. Thank you, Lyds." She rested her palms on the material of the boxers she had been sleeping in, brushing out the small wrinkles. She watched Stiles animatedly talk, throwing his hands around in the air around his head. Lydia looked Stiles in the eyes as he talked about some moment that happened during freshman year, watching the constellations in his eyes sparkle, his smile brighter than she had seen in years.

"Those hands are Malia's to hold." She thought as his hands spoke along with him.

"Those lips are hers to kiss." She watched his mouth stretch into another smile, telling his stories.

But for now, she had her feet on his dashboard, the forest air, his words and that smile - all of them were hers.

He had once told her to wait, not with words exactly, but with shaky hands, shy smiles, eyes that found her in the hallways.

Lydia could wait for him.