Stiles and Lydia One shots (Stydia)

"Knock knock"

***Stiles' POV***

This is crazy.

I'm crazy... crazy in love with this woman.

Honestly, how could she even take my breath away unconscious? She's like only a few feet away. She's not even doing anything.

God, she's so beautiful. How the fuck is she even possible?

I take a deep breath as I adore the splay of strawberry blonde hair and fair skinned limbs on my bed under the sheets. She's so peaceful right now, unaware of what she does to me. I can never get enough of this, of her.

I wonder if it could be like this for the rest of my days. I smirk at the thought.

I shake my head as I push myself off of the armchair facing the bed and walk towards her. Damn! She's even more beautiful up close.

I push her hair away from her face only to feel my heart beating faster than it already is at the sight of her innocent features drowned in deep sleep. I won't mind staring at this face for hours.

I realize how lucky I am to get to have this woman in my arms. I realize it every day. I'll never get tired of this. I'll never get tired of her.

My hand rests on the back of her neck where I fixed her hair away as I sit still on the edge of the bed beside her. I take a deep breath for what seemed like the fiftieth time in the past hour.

She groans and I smile as she shifts.

"I love you so much, Lyds." I whisper.

***Lydia's POV***

I wake up to a blurred image of Stiles.

"Wake up." he says, a flat tone on his voice. "Lydia, wake up."

"What?" I groan. It's a fucking Sunday. What is he up to? I shift facing away from him, trying to go back to sleep.

"Get up." he slaps my butt and when I showed no response, shakes me for the hundredth time now, I think.

I swear this boy is full of ridiculousness. Why is he even up this early? Judging by the light coming from the window, It's probably only 6:00 am. Why is he waking me up? Doesn't he know I need sleep, specifically because of the events that happened last night? I realize alcohol gives you as much energy as lightning when you're drunk. I'm surprised I'm not that sore. I bury my face even more in the sheets to hide the smile that has formed on my lips as I remembered the details of the previous night.

That smile fades as Stiles continues to shake me. Don't get me wrong, i love Stiles, him being a bag of cockiness and all. But I'm just not in the mood for it right now. It's probably just another joke, prank or cheesy pick up line he came up with and so needs to crack up before he forgets about it. He does it all the time, I find it cute. This moment, however, is not one of those times.

He slaps my butt cheek again.

"Fucking get up, Martin!" he whines. "It's important."

I roll back to face him and sit up, still hugging the covers to my naked body. "Oh, what is it, Stilinski?" I look at him with squinting eyes as I try to get a clearer picture of his face.