His lack of sleep was matched by her own sleeplessness, her time spent with reading up on legend and homework, teaching herself Japanese and refusing to believe that this was her life. Lydia might actually have been getting less sleep as she was terrified what Stiles might do to himself had he not had someone there to reassure him of reality. Her nights with him consisted of counting and holding him tightly to soothe whatever was troubling him, the unseen demons scary and vague.
She continued to run her fingers through his hair, the planes now extremely familiar to her hands. She willed herself to be strong enough to not let her shoulders shake the way that was so common for her, focusing on the boy who had become a man too soon in front of her.
Lydia kissed him back almost desperately, holding him close to her, too afraid to let go should he disappear right then. She didn't want time to continue; if everything could just freeze for a minute, an hour, a day, maybe their destiny could change. "I don't want you to go."