She was his responsibility. Well only because everyone just automatically assumed he took care of her best. Which he did. But it seemed like that was just an excuse for every time she got wasted: throw her to Stiles. That brings us to where we are now.
She had almost fallen for what seemed the millionth time since arriving at his house, his arm wrapped around her slender waist while the other unlocked the front door. A laugh left her drunken lips as he helped her stumble inside.
"Stiles." She tested his name with another laugh causing him too as well. "Stiles." She said again, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Yes?" He asked. But she didn't say anything, pulling him down to her height to kiss him. It had happened so quickly too.
His heart lurched, eyes widened, and he pushed her back. "Whoah, Lydia, uh- L-let's just...sit." The boy guided her to the couch with nervous eyes. She claimed a cushion with laughter, watching as he scrambled around his kitchen, muttering to himself under his breath. He tugged the ends of his hair, returning to the girl with a glass of water that he offered to her, telling her to drink. She obeyed, not in the mood to go against what he was saying, too tired and shitfaced to protest. He wasn't surprised she could drink it as fast as she had because she'd been doing just that all night. Once the task was completed, she smacked her lips dramatically and set the cup on the coffee table before crawling onto the lap of her flustered friend. She fell on top of him, their lips crashing once again. This one he quickly accepted. Her hands threaded his hair, his own on the back of her thighs (a little close to her ass). A moan swirled in the pit of his throat with each new kiss and he needed air but kept on telling himself 'I can last one more'. But he also thought, shit this is wrong. And as much as he hated it, he had to be responsible and pull back from the girl. She pouted.
"Lydia," he spoke her name softly, so comfortable on his lips and he sighed. "I like you. The only reason I'm telling you this is because you probably -hopefully- won't remember. But because of that, y-you know the uh drunkness, I can't kiss you...or...anything else."
She stared at him, wide eyes, not able to sit up completely straight because alcohol still ran through her like blood. Then she did something he didn't expect. She started to cry, as though she was disappointed in the fact that he was respecting her.
"You're so pretty." She whined.
He laughs as she falls into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.
"thank you sweetheart." He grins, getting a good grip on her legs before lifting them both off of the couch.
While Lydia was weeping for no actual reason, he carried her upstairs and to his room where he laid the girl against his sheets. He heard her sigh, yawned after she had (feeling a bit tired himself), watched as she wiggled to get comfortable. He pulled back his comforter and tucked the girl in, placing her head against his pillow rather than where she had chosen to rest it on the mattress. The whole while she kept on muttering nonsense about how nice he was or how pretty she thought he was or even how she wanted to kiss him again. He told her to sleep. So she did just that.
The sun made her groan and cover her eyes at its brightness. She felt horribly hungover, bile in her stomach and a pounding in her ears. She managed to literally fall off of the bed, flopping to the floor only to find a boy in her line of vision. He was always a gentleman, on the floor while she had taken the bed. She crawled over to him, laying on her stomach just as he was, his face buried 3/4 into his pillow.
"Are you awake?" She whispered. His lips stretched into a smile and he answered back with a hum to signify he was alive but still half asleep. I like you. She remembered his words from last night, (surprisingly remembered). He gave a breathy chuckle, still smiling lazily before peaking open his eyes. They were met by a forest of green.
"How do you feel?" He muttered against the pillow. She held her breath at the roughness in his morning voice.
"Headache." She answered.
He sighed and closed his eyes again, rolling over onto his back. "Well in that case, Advil in the bathroom drawer and I'm going back to sleep."
"Mmmm no I already checked, the only thing I could find were some condoms." She lied.
His eyes shot open and he turned to face her. "WHAT."
She took the opportunity to connect their lips, completely sober this time but still shocking him. He felt warm, the girl of his dreams coiling her arm around his bare chest while gifting him quick kisses. "You–" she pecked his lips, interrupting his sentence briefly, "you're kissing me." There was a grin bigger than Saturn stretching across his face.
Lydia nodded and whispered, "I know. I'm not drunk anymore."
He laughed, curled a strand of her hair around his finger.
"This is probably the part where you ask me out on a date, Stilinski." Lydia smiled.
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Authors note:
Ehhhhhhhhhhh....eh
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
