<Stiles' POV>

Strawberry blonde waves are flashed in my face when my eyes slowly flutter open on Tuesday morning. My arms are wrapped respectfully tight around Lydia's waist, pulling her into my chest. Our legs are tangled from sleep, the air around our morphed bodies warm and comfortable. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and see that's it's ten o'clock. "Lydia," I groan, trying to wake the girl so we can make sure the apartment is clean for when the couple comes for a tour. "Lyds," I repeat in her ear. This time she groans and flips around so she is facing me, before moving her face into my chest and falling back to sleep. "Lydia come on, we have to get out of bed," I say, this time getting a little worried. One time a few days ago Lydia did not want to get out of bed and even said she wished she could just lay there and die. Her protests soon turned into a fully fledged mental break down. Allison locked herself in the bedroom with Lydia for three hours before Lydia brought herself back together and Allison tugged the reluctant girl out of bed. Thankfully, this time, Lydia wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, muttering the word, "up." I smirk and pull us out of bed with her clinging onto me like a koala and walk to the door. I set her down on the floor and kiss her forehead bravely. She wraps her arms around my waist again and I place a soft hand on her hip. Her lips leave a hot sticky spot on my tee shirt. I half drag her on my side into the kitchen to make us breakfast.

Upon entering the room I find all of our friends laying hungover on the couch, chair, floor, and table. Empty bottles everywhere and even a few stains and articles of clothing scattered here and there. There is a piled of shattered glass next to the couch where Allison and Scott are sleeping, tangled together. I groan, knowing that I'm going to be the one having to pick all of it up. Lydia giggles and I look at her in shock. She barely ever laughs and just the gesture causes me to smile despite the amount of work I have ahead of me.

Lydia pulls her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head while I start brewing some coffee. Little strands of light red hair poke out of Lydia bun and scalp. The small girl lifts herself up to sit on the counter next to the stove where I begin cooking bacon. Lazily I decide on microwaveable pancakes instead of using all my effort to make homemade pancakes. When I go to take out seven plates for the group Lydia squeals behind me. Now utterly worried that she hurt herself I drop the plates on the counter and whip my gaze around to her. I find her holding her thigh between her soft hands. Her face is contorted in slight pain. Rushing over to her I ask what happened. "The bacon popped and grease burnt my leg," she exclaims in a whisper plainly. My hands grab hers and move them away from her leg. Bringing my lips down to her upper thigh, I plant a short, soft, warm kiss on the pale skin of her leg. My eyes close, blocking my view from her evergreen colored lace underwear. She freezes under my touch, reminding me to move away. It occurs to me now that she went to bed with my pajama pants on and woke up without them. I begin to wonder why in the hell she never sleeps with pants on. Not that I am complaining.

"There, all better," I confirm, returning to the plates I gathered prior to the incident. When breakfasts is ready I set the round table and slap two pancakes on each plate and a plate of bacon in the center of the table. Our friends begin to wake up with groans and yawns. Allison gets up with a bralette and tiny pajama shorts. I try not to wonder why her shirt has suddenly disappeared. She makes her way to the silver drawer and grabs seven forks and seven knives. Lazily she brings them to the table and places a set next to each plate. I smile and thank her. She replies with a thumbs up. When she turns around to gather more stuff for the table Scott who is now awake as well presses a hand to her bare abdomen and motions for her to sit down next to Lydia who is staring at her pancakes with squinted eyes. Scott then pours two cups of coffee, one with sugar and cream and one without. He places the light coffee in front of Allison and places the cup in front of the chair next to Allison. Music starts to play from a small speaker. I look to the source of the sound and see Isaac standing in front of his phone deciding on a new song. When he has chosen he joins us at the table. Malia and Kira join us next with their hands clasped. Malia with tired eyes and Kira looking awake and as cheerful as ever. In my spot next to Lydia I eat quietly and watch her stare at her plate looking conflicted. "Take a few bites Lyds, you didn't have dinner yesterday," I remind her. She bites her lip. Allison's gigs quietly.

"Or lunch," Ali grumbles sadly. Lydia shrugs.

"I'm really just not hungry," she claims. My grip tightens around my silverware and I try to take deep breathes. It doesn't work. I roll my eyes without her noticing.

"For god sake Lydia you have to eat something!" I exclaim while dropping my fork and knife. The girl clenches her eyes shut with her whole body shaking. Hesitantly, she opens her eyes and grabs the fork in front of her. I watch her intently as she takes a small bite of her first pancake. Bite after bite, I watch her finish her pancakes and then start on three pieces of bacon. Handing her a coffee cup I look at the liquid hopefully, praying to God that she drinks it. She finishes that in no time as well. Right when she is finished she gets up and drops her dirty plate and silverware into the sink. With her red haired bun bouncing on her head, she struts angrily to the balcony. I finish my own food and try to ignore Allison's glare that is locked on my face. "What?" I ask sharply and irritated.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," Allison tells me. I shrug.

"I'm sick of watching her starve herself, she ate didn't she?" I confirm. Allison let's out a long breath of air and shakes her head elusively.

Once everyone has finished eating Scott and I clear the table, placing all of the dishes into the dishwasher. His stare is locked on me. "What's up Scott?" I ask slightly annoyed. He shrugs.

"Don't know, I guess I'm just ready to get out of here, I'm ready to get Lydia out more than anything," Scott claims. I nod slowly and lean against the counter.

"Ya, first we have to clean up the place." Cleaning starts quick. Bottles are thrown in the recycling bin, tables are scrubbed. The scent of chemicals and air freshener are strong among the apartment. Every tile is washed with a mop and every small carpet is vacuumed. In the midst of all the action I catch Lydia hold her stomach and sprint from the balcony to the bathroom. Her small feet patter across the hardwood, and the carpet softly. Allison drops the vacuum and sprints after her best friend. I follow soon after, dropping my wet cloth.

In the bathroom I find Lydia over the toilet, throwing up everything she ate this morning. Allison is kneeling next to her looking away and rubbing Lydia's back soothingly. When the piling stops for a moment Lydia finds me standing in the door way. "Leave," she mumbles. I stand frozen in place. Allison shoots me a glare. "For fucks sake leave! Go away! Get him the fuck out of here!" Lydia screeches with fresh tears falling down her face. Allison stands up quickly and forces me out with a single hand. Her palm presses against my chest pushing me away from the room. The door is then slammed in my face. Behind the door I hear tears and choking and whispered words from Allison. Everyone stops what they are doing and watches me wait. After a few minutes the bathroom door is thrown open. Allison points an accusing finger at me.

"You!" She snarls, "you need to fix what you did!" Allison yells, her face red with anger. I throw my hands up.

"I don't know what I did!" I protest. Allison slaps me across the face. The stinging in my cheek stays even after her hand is back at her hip in a fist.

"Fix what you said to her this morning! I don't care if you don't mean it, apologize for putting her out of line as soon as she was gaining hope of leaving this place!" Allison screams in my face. She stomps angrily away to the balcony. Scott follows her worriedly, dropping his mop. I walk hesitantly to the bathroom, reaching with a shaking hand for the doorknob. Stepping through the now open door I find Lydia sitting with her knees to her chest on the sink counter. She looks away from me and instead at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"Lydia I-"

"I love you," she spurts out, keeping her stare away from me still. I watch her squeeze her eyes shut and bite her bottom lip hard. Her words don't only stop my own, but keep me speechless and frozen. This is what I thought I wanted her to say, but after today, I just don't see this working for either of us if we both want to remain sane and not heartbroken.

"Don't," I say while clenching my hands in fists at my sides. Now Lydia does look at me.

"What?" Her voice is quiet, I almost don't hear her raspy reply. Taking a few breath I think about my response.

"Lydia for the sake of both our feelings don't love me, I'm not good for you," I reassure her. Lydia says nothing in response. Instead her face becomes even more pale. Her eyes roll back into her head. I watch the breath leave her chest and her arms and legs become oddly relaxed, unmotivated to move. Every limb on her body begins to shake. Her body trembles and then falls off of the counter onto the cold tiled floor. The hair in her bun becomes loose. Her fingers land near her mouth, gray and brittle from lack of nutrients from food. There is blood seeping from a gash on the side of her forehead. It mixes with the ginger of her hair and the white of the floor, a shocking contrast. I drop to the floor next to her taking her cold hand in my own. Two of my fingers check for a pulse and find a slow one present.

A hospital. She needs a hospital.