half blood hills ▷ teen wolf a.u

Six Thirty.

Lydia woke up with chocolate brown hair in her mouth. And while it looked pretty and smelt like something unworthy of even Olympus, it unfortunately wasn't exactly Michelin star quality taste-wise. Or even edible for that matter.

Though she distinctly remembered getting off Stiles' lap the night before dot on the fifteen minute mark, she woke up with the top half of her torso clinging onto his beanbag, while the bottom half was twisted on the round leather chair she'd occupied the night before.

Still the only contact they had was her nose in his hair- their bodies splayed awkwardly like broken puppets after a particularly exhaustive performance.

She knew it was six thirty without having to think about it. Years of a perfected body clock had ensured that every morning, rain or shine; hungover or not; injured or in the pink of health, she woke up at six thirty, after which she'd decide whether to go back to sleep or focus her energy on something more productive.

"Shit."

Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut, adjusting herself on the hard leather as she began to regain feeling in her legs. She could feel in particular, a large, squashed lump that was brutally being disfigured in her front pocket and despite her pounding headache, she wrestled with her shorts, pulling out the crackling little package. Eyes still closed she fumbled with the plastic- ripping it apart in an almost desperate frenzy- at war with her throbbing body before shoving some of the lumpy ambrosia into her mouth- chest heaving from the mundane actions that seemed like exertion to her sore limbs.

As she let the taste of buttered popcorn soothe her- the combination of memories and healing causing her pain to ebb away like the waves that drew back from Long Island Sound- she unclenched her eyelids- lashes tangling together as she assessed the sparsely furnished room- renewed with vigour as the effects of the godly substance began to kick in.

Scott was asleep in the arms of the Zeus statue, fully clothed, thank the Gods, but covered in crude drawings that could only have been the work of Malia, that took a tipsy path towards the sleeve of his t-shirt- suggestively trailing up his bicep. Kira, was innocently curled at the foot of the enormous Zeus statue- presumably it'd been her that had helped Scott get up there in the first place. True to their dare from last night, Brett and Liam lay spooning on the cold, abstractly patterned marble, both brothers looking oddly content.

Malia had fallen asleep in the chair she occupied the night before- the plane of her jaw set tight as her right hand rested on her waistband, where a small crafted blade lay sheathed under the shirt she wore. Her left leg was tangled- shoved into the armhole of a discarded shirt that was becoming increasingly grimy thanks to her worn laced boots. Beside her, Allison occupied Scott's single bed- skin looking paler than ever as she mumbled somewhat incoherently about someone drinking wolf blood. Aiden had fallen asleep in sitting position- back leaning against the footboard of Scott's bed.

Danny and Ethan had disappeared- presumably on one of their morning walks- and so had Isaac though in his case, he'd probably been wandering around camp for hours now- trying to fill the sleepless void inside of him.

Coming a full circle around the room, Lydia's eyes flitted over Stiles, who lay a drooling mess beside her- hair ruffled to the extreme as his forehead was devoid of its usual thoughtful frown.