UNFINISHED Stydia AU - Room Mates - Teen Wolf.

The Girl In Blue.

Of course I like you. It's because I like you I don't want to be with you. It's a complicated emotion.

- Marlin, Finding Nemo.

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The days in the leadup to Christmas went by painfully slowly, and Lydia found herself doing just about anything to keep herself from taking up knitting. The kitchen was transformed into a cookie factory, and the lounge room into a private cinema, once she had set up the projector. And above all else, tormenting Stiles became her favorite source of entertainment.

"Lydia," he groaned for the thousandth time that week, "fucking quit it."

They were settled on the sofa, watching a cliché Christmas movie that Lydia had insisted upon, with her small hand just under the hem of Stiles' shirt, gliding over his skin with deliberate softness as she traced patterns of hearts and their names onto his stomach with the tip of a cherry red fingernail.

"What?" she asked innocently.

Stiles fought a smile as he met her eyes, biting his cheek and still keeping a firm hold on the pillow covering his lap.

"Really, Lyds? This-" He gestured to her low-cut tank top and the hand on his abdomen. "-is total, unadulterated torture. And stop doing that," he added as she bit her lip, looking up at him with huge, luminously green eyes.

"Why?" she giggled. Her hand dropped to the waistband of his sweats and Stiles swore.

"B-because... Christ, you're a fucking nightmare!" He squirmed in discomfort, trying in vain to distance himself from her.

"And you're incredibly easy to turn on," Lydia said, poking the pillow on his lap with a grin. Stiles muttered unintelligibly under his breath as a furious blush flowered on his cheeks.

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Make me."

Lydia's face lit up with a challenging smirk. She settled back into the tiny loveseat in a cool, carefree manner and watched him. She could practically see the thoughts flying around in his head, and an eventual sly smile crept onto his face.

"I think I could make you."

Quick as a snake striking, he had her pinned to the seat of the sofa, his face inches from hers. Lydia smiled coyly up at him.

"Is that the best you can do?" she taunted, pouting mockingly.

"I said shut up," he growled, and captured her irritating little pout in a kiss.

Lydia responded with soft, unhurried movements that seemed specifically designed to torture him, the arms he had previously pressed into the sofa oddly relaxed. She was making no move to escape, doing nothing at all to show him that he was having any effect on her.

Stiles pulled away and frowned at her.

"What are we doing?"

"We are doing 'friends' things," she replied simply, tilting her chin up to meet his lips again.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her doubtfully, trying not to let her distract him.

"Lyds, if there is one thing we have never been, it's 'friends'."