Enchanted - A Stydia / Jily AU - Teen Wolf

Do I Wanna Know?

I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you, and I don't know if you feel the same as I do.

- Do I Wanna Know, Arctic Monkeys.

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Lydia had been staring at the remains of the fire for half an hour solid. There was, of course, no essay to write for Slughorn, and as the best student in the class, Lydia wouldn't have needed extra credit even if the option was there.

Stilinski had put his mufflatio charm on the door of her dormitory, making it impossible to tell what was going on in there. Her quill, inkpot and an old half-completed draft essay on the use of beetle eyes in sleeping potions sat neatly on the desk in front of her, in case anyone came to check on her.

She was almost asleep when the soft sound of bare feet brushing against one of the rugs alerted her, and she turned to find Stiles Stilinski looking at her with a puzzled expression.

Lydia waited for him to say something, but he never did. Instead, he flopped onto the squashy couch next to her with a dramatic sigh. Lydia rolled her eyes at the attention seeking display, smothering a smile as she did.

"What do you want, Stilinski?" she asked, refusing to let herself stare at the strip of skin on his stomach that had been revealed when he had thrown his arms over his head, stretching to as close to his full height as he could get on the cramped loveseat.

"I wanted to see you," Stiles replied immediately. He frowned as if that was something he hadn't meant to tell her.

Lydia felt the color rising to her cheeks.

"Oh." She shifted awkwardly in her seat, looking to the doorway that lead to the dormitories. "What did you tell the others?"

"That I was coming to try to convince you to rejoin the game."

"And are you?" Lydia freed herself from the uncomfortable wooden chair in favor of lying on the floor beside his couch.

"Nope." Stiles replied simply.

"Oh."

"Your friend is a terrible kisser, you know," he informed her matter-of-factly.

Lydia started drawing the letter S in the air with her big toe contemplatively, before she realized what she was doing and stopped immediately.

"I'm, uh... sorry about that," Lydia said. "I know you didn't really have much of a choice. It would have hurt her feelings if you'd taken the shot like I did."

"Yeah," Stiles said softly.

Lydia was quiet for a while before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry about that, too. I know I probably embarrassed you."

Stiles chuckled quietly.

"Don't worry, Martin. I'm a big boy. I can deal with a little rejection. And it's not the first time you've turned me down. Or the second, or third, or fiftieth..."

"Okay!" Lydia cut him off, smiling stupidly. "I get it."

Stiles fell into a thoughtful silence.

"Hey, Martin?"

"Mmm?"

"How long does Veritaserum take... to wear off?"

Lydia's veins lit up as though she had been electrocuted, and a tug in her chest forced her to answer.

"Eight hours. For the amount we took, at least."

Her blood fizzed and her stomach flipped at the prospect of being a part of a conversation with Stiles Stilinski in which she physically couldn't lie. Even worse, a conversation where he knew that she couldn't lie.