Stiles Stilinski thought more than one ever should whenever he walked through the door of the tenth gate in Virginia's airport.
His heart was pounding at the thought of home, of the thought of her, his fiance.
Of her long light red hair that cascaded down to her midback so effortlessly, of her green eyes that looked into his caramel ones perfectly, of her heavenly body and just the overwhelmingly perfect love he felt for her.
Lydia Martin. Soon to be Stilinski.
The twenty two year old hadn't seen the love of his life for six months, because he was training for the next rank in the FBI.
Stiles's mind went a billion miles a hour as his eyes ran over any possible place of where Lydia could be, and finally, only seconds later, his eyes landed on a full head of neatly curled red hair, facing him completly, just feet away.
"Stiles!" That voice he absolutely yearned for for the past six months yelled out to him, and before he knew it, he threw his backpack off his back and ran towards her as well. Just as he did whenever they were both careless eighteen year olds and Lydia realized she remembered him.
And finally, Lydia jumped into his arms as she wrapped her leps around his waist, burying her face into his shoulder and never letting go. Stiles held her with all that he was, not letting go for dear life.
He inhaled her perfect smell as tears of joy streamed down both their faces.
"Stiles...oh my God I love you so much." He heard Lydia say into his shoulder.
Stiles then noticed the crowd of people around them, applauding the couple with smiles on their faces.
"I love you so much more, baby." He whispered back, earning a shudder from her, and he only squeezed her to him harder.
Stiles held Lydia even as he walked to his worn out old Jeep (something he also missed so very much) and sat her in the passenger seat, driving to their house with a look of happiness written all over his face.
Even while driving, Stiles whispered sweet nothings to Lydia, holding her hand while expertly driving.
He was home, because anywhere she was, that was home.
{♡}
After showing Stiles all of the changes that were made to their house in Beacon Halls (which Stiles got espacially excited at his lacrosse jersey that now hung on the walls on their study), Lydia had led Stiles to their bedroom, where practically nothing has changed.
Same warm red colored wallpaper, same soft tan carpet, same every thing.
And nothing looked more perfect (well except for Lydia) in his eyes.
Stiles fell in his left side of their large king four poster bed, and groaned while doing so.
"Honestly, I've had dreams of this bed while I was gone."
Lydia laughed and crawled onto the bed right next to him, and started playing with his hair, cherishing the feel of it between her fingers.
Stiles smiled into the silky soft red pillow and turned his head to face her, smiling up at her.
He focused on Lydia's green eyes, on her bare shoulders (safe for the strap of her bra and strap of her black tank top), on her perfect porcelain skin. But most of all, Stiles was focused on her eyes which were full with utmost love and feeling.
