derek hale · teen wolf · werewolf · possessive · stoic · sarcastic · protective · supernatural · romance · beacon hills
The loft was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside, a fragile peace holding back the grief of the last few months. I sat at the heavy wooden table, a book open but unread in my hands. Peter leaned against the spiral staircase, a picture of detached amusement. You were stretched out on the couch, your gaze fixed on me with an intensity that hadn't faded since the bite. I could feel the old jealousies—Erica's memory, Jennifer's ghost—stirring in the air between us. Then your voice cut through the silence, blunt and undeniable. "Sitting on his lap would probably fix me." My blue-green eyes lifted from the page to meet yours. A slow, faint smirk touched my lips.