Work Text:
Scott blinks his eyes open to a mouth dry as sand. Lethargy is wrapped around him tight as a blanket, already trying to lull him back to sleep. For a moment, he succumbs to the temptation, lets his eyes drift shut again. It's still early enough in the evening that there's sun coming through the window, but it's not bright enough to bother his eyelids and not warm enough to make him feel like he's sweltering underneath his blanket, even with another body tucked beside him.
It would probably only take a few moments for him to plunge right back into full-on sleep. But when he swallows, the full dryness of his mouth and throat hits him. It's almost as bad as the cottonmouth Greenberg's weed always gives him, without fail and, coughing as he forces himself to swallow, he opens his eyes again and sits up, letting the blanket fall down to his waist. There's a half-empty bottle of neon green Mountain Dew (Kira's favorite) on the floor, resting on top of his economics textbook, and even though the lukewarm drink tastes horrible, it still manages to rid his throat of the scratchy dryness.
He's not sure how long they've been asleep for; an hour, at least. He'd finished up work at the clinic just before four and picked up Kira on the way home, so that they could study together for a few upcoming midterms in the classes they share. And Scott had meant to study, truly; studying with Kira is much easier than studying alone. Their strengths play off each other and even if they do get distracted, it's usually only to make out for a few minutes, not dissolve into two hours of video gaming (which happens all too often with Stiles).
He remembers setting up his room with her, getting it into optimal studying mode; making sure they had enough snacks and drinks, extra pillows for leaning against the headboard, a whole bunch of pens (half of which were probably already dried out.) He vaguely remembers getting settled on the bed with her, economics textbook tucked between their legs and at some point, he knows that she dropped her head onto his shoulder, hair tickling his cheek.
Somehow, that turned into a nap and while Scott doesn't remember exactly how it turned into that, he also isn't surprised.
He polishes off the rest of the soda, tosses the bottle across the room towards the garbage can, and turns back to Kira. She's still fast asleep, long, dark eyelashes fanned along the curve of her cheek. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun and some of the strands have fallen forward to brush against her forehead. The collar of her loose sweater has slipped down and a dark purple bra strap bisects her shoulder. The sun striping through the window is hitting her skin in such a way that she looks illuminated from within, like she's swallowed a small sun.
It's not the first time Scott has been struck simultaneously by how beautiful she is and how lucky he is, and he's absolutely certain it won't be the last.
He leans over the edge of the bed and digs through the debris scattering the floor, fingers searching for his phone. Once he finds it, he glances at the time before putting it right back where he found it. He knows that, realistically, he should probably gently shake Kira awake. They both have a lot of studying to do and going back to sleep is only going to make the lead coating his eyelids even heavier, not to mention that he'll probably be up half the night staring at the ceiling when he does try to go to bed.
But Kira looks like the very definition of peaceful, so Scott brings his legs back onto the bed and pulls the blanket up to his chest. Kira stirs slightly, long enough to shift closer so that her toes brush against his calf, before she falls still again, lips parted slightly.
Scott scoots over, presses a kiss to her forehead, and relaxes back down onto the pillows, leaden eyes closing almost immediately.
Studying can wait a little longer.