Run away || a stydia fan fiction

2. Shock

I hate you, I love you
I hate that I love you

Lydia's pov

||5 months later||

Matt, I'm going to pick up Allison and Scott from the airport! See you later!" I yell to Matt, who's supposedly working in his office.

"Okay! Love you!" He calls back.

"Love you too!"

Malia, Isaac, and Kira all insisted on taking a cab and getting a hotel, but I forced Scott and Allison to stay with us. I needed Allison's support around me all the time for the next couple of days.

After about an hour of driving, I arrive at the airport and search for a parking before making my way inside. Allison texted me when they landed, which was 30 minutes ago, so they should be out soon.

I stand around for about 10 minutes, continuously checking all of my social media platforms. Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat. I happen to look up at the perfect time, and spot them strolling out of the doors.

"Scott! Alli!" I yell, waving my hands in the air. They see me and put huge smiles on their faces before rushing over.

I hug Scott, then Allison and crouch down to her stomach.

"Hey, baby." I laugh, poking at Allison's very unnoticeable bump.

"You know he or she can't hear you yet." Scott chuckles.

"Yes, I'm aware. Just thought I'd acknowledge your fetus' presence. I'm sorry." I snip back sarcastically.

"Well then." Allison breathes out.

I stand back up to my normal height and guide my favourite couple through the crowded airport.

"Hey, watch it! Pregnant lady coming through!" I yell as we weave through people, which makes Allison burst into laughter while hiding her face in embarrassment.

When we arrive home, Matt starts packing his bag for the big day tomorrow, and he and Scott head to the hotel they are staying at for the night. As they say, the groom seeing the bride on the big day is back luck.

Allison and I say goodbye to the boys, and then spend our evening watching the Bachelor in our pyjamas. I'm drinking red wine and Allison, of course, is drinking non-alcoholic cider.

"Ugh I miss wine!" She complains, flopping her arms to her sides, and putting on a fake pout.

"Wanna smell?" I offer.

She takes a sniff of my drink and smiles happily.

"Torture." She says, turning back to the TV.

"It's worth it. You're gonna have a child. Shit, that's a wake up call." I sigh.

"I know. So, are you excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah..." My voice drifts off, and I stare at the blank wall behind the television.

"That didn't sound very enthusiastic. What's going on?" She asks.

I reach for the remote and pause the show before turning to face her on the sofa. We both sit cross legged, with our knees barely touching, and our drinks close by.