Chapter Text
The first time Lydia felt the absolutely overwhelming urge to tell Stiles she loved him was when they were at the Motel.
From the second she ran and jumped onto him, (saving his cute, skinny ass,) she knew she couldn't live without him.
As she stared into the fire and saw the torn up, hooded figure who terrified her more than anything she had ever witnessed, she remembered Stiles' words from so long ago, "if you died, I would literally go out of my freaking mind."
Now the feeling was 100% mutual.
She felt Stiles on the ground beneath her and let tears start falling from her eyes.
Everyone asked what she saw and why she was crying, but the when she told them, she knew in her mind it was only half the reason.
The thought of Stiles not being alive made her so emotional that she thought she was going to start crying again.
After she, Stiles, Scott, Allison, and, apparently Isaac had made their way onto the bus, she looked over at Stiles after he had settled into the worn out bus seat. She found herself smiling at his curled up form.
He was beautiful. His eyes were the color of maple syrup, his fluffed-up hair was rich, dark brown, and his smile made her heart climb to her throat.
She fell asleep that night, for the first time in a long time, smiling.
She fell asleep dreaming of him.