ohhhhh. my god. how could I have possibly forgotten caveman!sciles??? I read your tag on that random post and I had like a flashback montage
Here’s something else to add to the montage, Nonnie. :)
Lydia barged through Scott and Stiles’s cave entrance and stopped short once she finally managed to lay eyes on them...half a sun’s sky journey too late to help her and both still fast asleep.
“Guys!” she said a little more tersely than she intended. “Wake up!”
Nothing. And the sight before her didn’t exactly inspire confidence, either. Stiles was flat on his back, spread eagle, and snoring contentedly on the plush mat he shared with Scott, the latter of whom had apparently just collapsed on top of Stiles and fell asleep right where he was.
Scanning the room, Lydia saw a jar tipped over on its side near where her two would-be assistants slept. Curious, she picked up the jar to investigate, but a whiff of something strong hit her before she could even get a good look. It smelled like apples. More specifically, like fermented apples.
Annoyed, Lydia dropped the jar. Scott stirred a little, but he only buried his face in Stiles’s neck and went back to sleep.
“Unbelievable,” Lydia muttered. A day’s worth of research, gone. It would be another whole moon before she could even attempt to gather the proper measurements. Honestly, she expected more from Scott. But where Stiles was concerned, she should have known better. It was probably his idea to get wasted the night before her big experiment. And everyone knew Scott had a hard time saying no to Stiles.
As she turned to leave, Lydia began thinking of the worst possible tasks she could give them to make this up to her.
***
“Lydia, have I told you how radiant your hair looks today? I mean, it is really, really magnificent.” Stiles panted as he dragged another mound of heavy, wet clay to the large pile Lydia told them she needed placed in front of her home a few days later.
“Yes. Seven times already.” She sipped a bit of cool water while seated in the shade of a tented canopy that was conveniently only large enough for her. “Are you and Scott almost finished?”
Scott appeared just then with his own batch of wet clay. “This is the last one,” he said, wiping his brow where his sweaty curls had fallen into his eyes.
“Can we go, now?” asked Stiles.
Lydia thought it over. They were both grimy and gross and just generally looked pitiful. Deciding this was sufficient for her, she dismissed them with a wave.
Stiles grabbed Scott’s hand and bolted. Scott at least had the decency to wave back to her.
Lydia watched them go until she couldn’t see them anymore. Then she sighed.
“What am I going to do with all of this stupid clay?” she wondered.