one shots | stydia

Stydia|| Vessel.

Flashback:

The rain hit the hood of the jeep, the sounds sounded like a slap to the thigh. Lydia's red locks were now a depressing shade of brown, sticking to her face as her tears hid behind the rain.

"This, what ever we are, isn't working anymore." Lydia shouted, motioning her small finger between the mass of space in between the two.

"Yeah, I agree." Stiles nodded, though he didn't. He thought the complete opposite, and so did Lydia.

Both of them felt like collapsing to the floor, their legs felt unstable as their capability to even look at each other was slim. It felt like their hearts were tearing apart, trying to hold on by that last little vessel but it was about to snap.

"We'll have to sort out some kind of co-parenting thing." Lydia said, shifting as she suddenly felt really uncomfortable in her wet clothes as they scratched and stuck to her sensitive skin.

Stiles looked down and looked back at the jeep, taking a slight glance at their beautiful baby girl in the back. She was only 3 months, she flared her arms about as she started to get hungry. Stiles looked at his watch and sighed. He threw the keys in Lydia's direction as she caught them with great serenity.

"Drive to yours, I'll walk home and pick up the jeep tomorrow...along with my stuff."

And with that, Stiles started to walk off in the other direction as he started to sob, but they were covered up by the rain pouring much heavier.

Lydia hopped in the jeep and placed her head on the steering wheel.

You know when I was talking about that one vessel, how they're holding on by that one, little, vessel?

Snap, the vessel has been broken.

14 years later:

Stiles pulled up outside Lydia's house, beeping with a smile on his face. The smile grew bigger as his not-so little girl came running out in her weekly bag with her belongings neatly folded up inside.

"Hey dad!" She smiled, chucking her bag in the boot and jumping in the front seat. Her personality was like electricity. She was bubbly, intelligent and full of sarcasm, and she couldn't wait to whip out a remark whenever it was necessary.

"Hey sweetie, how was your birthday?" Stiles asked, putting his arm on her head rest. He scanned her face, she was starting to experiment with makeup and she's unsurprisingly good, that's probably because she has Lydia Martin as a mother.

"It was good, how's pops?"

"He's great!" Stiles replied with a smile on his face. He turned his head towards the house he once called his own and his eyes directed to the window. He saw her silhouette standing there watching them from the small gaps from the blinds that were purposely slightly open. Her silhouette was completely black and he wouldn't of seen her if it wasn't for the back window's curtains that had been opened. He hasn't seen her face in about 9 years, nor visa versa. His face was always blocked from the natural sunlight by the mirror of his worn out jeep. She saw his arms and his upper body perfectly as the sun reflected onto him, but not his face.

Fuck, she wanted to see his face so bad.

She wanted to trace and dot to dot the moles that scattered across his cheeks and he wanted to do the same with her freckles that were almost like they were positioned perfectly around her small button nose. They were aching for each other, seeing a little bit of each other in each passing moment of everyday where their daughter shares their infamous traits.