UNFINISHED Stydia AU - Room Mates - Teen Wolf.

Wax Flowers.

I think you should know you're his favorite worst nightmare.
- D is for Dangerous, Arctic Monkeys.

....................................................

By five, Lydia had returned to studying and Stiles was doing God-knows-what in the main room. Something that required a lot of effort, judging by the occasional crash followed by a muffled curse. She was pretty sure he had fallen into the TV cabinet at one point.

She would have gone out and seen what all the crashing and swearing had been about, if she hadn't been under strict orders from Stiles to 'Not leave this room until I knock on the door, or I will kill you. Creatively.'

So she was sitting on her bed, sulking about having eaten the last of her liquorice, with her physics textbook open on her lap when a soft knock came half an hour later. Stiles was grinning like a Halloween pumpkin when she opened the door. "I am the best room mate in the history of ever," He announced, rocking back and forth on his toes like a three year old.

Lydia arched an eyebrow at him doubtfully. "Why is that?" She asked. His grin couldn't have widened any further. "Come see!" With that, he launched forward to grab her hand and dragged her into the lounge room.

It was transformed, with fairy lights covering the ceiling, the sofa pushed against the wall and a huge tent in its place. For some reason, there was also a bare synthetic Christmas tree set up in the corner and several packages of rainbow birthday candles on the coffee table. Lydia turned to Stiles, who was surveying his work proudly. Noticing her look, he cleared his throat. "Whaddya think?" He asked, a touch of shyness coloring his voice.

"I think it needs an explanation before I pass judgment," She said, glancing around the room in an attempt to figure it out. Stiles cleared his throat. "You remember last week? When we played that never have I ever game?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Barely. I was very, very drunk." Lydia replied dryly. "Well, unlike you, I'm not a total lightweight. And I remember a certain girl saying she had never been camping." Stiles made his way to the center of the room and threw out his arms. "Welcome to camping 101," He said with a smug smile.

"You set up a campsite in our lounge room?" Lydia asked, fighting the massive smile that threatened to invade her face. "Yup." Stiles popped the p and leaned against the wall. Lydia looked again, with a newfound understanding of the seemingly random decorations. The fairy lights on the ceiling were stars, and the Christmas tree had to be a representation of the woods.

"Birthday candles?" She asked curiously. "We can't exactly light a fire on our lounge room floor," He explained. "So, verdict?" He turned to Lydia with a mask of indifference covering up his uncertainty. She looked up at him seriously, before her face split into a heartbreaking grin.

"I love it." She wrapped her arms around his torso, her face buried in his chest for a moment. When she broke away, he was looking down at her, eyebrows knit together at her reaction. "You are the best room mate in the history of ever," She said jokingly, and Stiles' frown melted into a soft smile. That was one of the things Lydia really liked about him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, which was something she had never been able to do.

"I'm glad. Now, rule one of camping; get set up before sundown." He went to the kitchen and started rummaging through drawers. "Hey Lyd, do we have any matches?" He asked, his voice being drowned out by the sound of cutlery clinking together. "Cupboard above the microwave," Lydia called, poking her head inside the tent. Two sleeping bags, but one mattress. Interesting.