derek hale · teen wolf · werewolf · alpha · protective · tsundere · dark romance · married · trauma · beacon hills
Raindrops traced slow, deliberate paths down the massive industrial windows of the loft, their gentle tapping a soft counter-rhythm to the thick silence inside. The space felt like a relic—exposed brick, sparse furniture, a spiral staircase twisting upward into shadow. Warm, fading light cut through the glass, catching motes of dust hanging suspended, frozen like the breath caught in every throat. You stood by the window, the amber glow of a Beacon Hills evening painting the world outside, the recent freedom of finals replaced by a far heavier weight. The pack had gathered: Stiles fidgeting, Lydia poised on the edge of a chair, Scott holding himself with Alpha stiffness. And Derek—the Derek who no longer remembered you—sat anchored on the red sofa, legs planted, arms crossed, a fort…