The Treehouse ( A Stydia fan fiction )

Chapter Five

Stiles still couldn't get the smirk off of his face even though it was already the end of the school day. He was shocked. Lydia Martin, the girl who had taken over his thoughts for the past five days had spoken to him? And with that thought on his mind he made his way out of the school gates and to his treehouse.

He was practically skipping by the time he got to the treehouse, but the sight of a 5'3 strawberry blonde girl stopped him. Twice? in one day. Stiles was enjoying this already.

"Lydia?" he called.

She turned around almost instantly at the sound of her name.

"Stiles?? Oh my god what are you doing here?" Lydia asked, making her way towards Stiles.

"This is my treehouse, what are you doing here?" Stiles replied.

"This is your treehouse?! i go past this every day to and from school!" Lydia exclaimed. " This is so crazy, mind if i come up?" Lydia added, climbing up the ladder into the treehouse.

"Uh, of course" Stiles mumbled, even though he knew she couldn't hear him.

When he got to the top of the ladder he stopped in his tracks at the sight of Lydia stroking her fingers delicately across his paintings on the wall, and watched as she gracefully sat on his sofa.

"You may be a good artist, Stiles, but you're quite clearly lacking in the interior design spectrum" Lydia joked.

"Hey look, my dad built this long before i could decorate and I've just never got round to doing it since, okay" Stiles defended, whilst taking a seat next to her.

"Well maybe one day i can help you decorate, i have quite the knack for decor" she offered, whilst turning her head to Stiles as if to get permission.

"That would be great" he agreed. "So, Lydia. Tell me more about yourself."

Stiles didn't even notice how much time had past, and he didn't really care. He was so interested in hearing about Lydia's life, how her mother had a lot of money but she was horrible so Lydia decided to stay with her dad when they divorced, and how her new house is so bare and has near to no colour in it, and how its always been a dream of hers to go travelling and to see the great sights of the world ( such as the northern lights ) but thats out of the question, at least until she's older, because her father can't afford it. He was so caught up in Lydia's eyes that he didn't realise the time.

"Shit" he exclaimed.

"What?" asked Lydia.

"Its seven pm, i should really get back home." Stiles sighed.

"Crap, me too. Thanks for letting me up here" Lydia said.

"Hey, Stilinski, you come up here often?" She asked.

"Basically everyday around the same time as usual, why?" he replied, with a hint of caution to his voice.

" No reason, thanks again." And then she was gone.