All about control

terrible things (november)

Letting out a long, slow breath, Theo reaches for another dish. The plate's cool surface is soothing against his cherry red skin. His movements are slow and methodical amidst the swirling steam rising from the sink. He's worked through most of a stack, purposefully ignoring the fully functional dishwasher to his right. Of course, it'd be easier to just load the thing up and set it on its merry way, but there's no point. He can get them just as clean by hand, and he feels like he's doing something.

Days off are a special kind of odd. He hates them. Like, really hates them, to the point that he messaged Argent, who still glares at him as if he'd kicked his puppy when they're in the same room, earlier asking if he needed help with anything. The lack of reply was an answer in and of itself.

Honestly, he had expected as much. Hunters aren't known for their forgiveness, and anyone related to the McCall pack has reason enough to hate him for a lifetime and then some. The fact that he's still breathing, that they're letting him, is actually astounding.

His fingers tighten around the plate as his jaw clenches.

Thinking about his entire situation always gets him bristling. So much of his life now is owed to them, but not only that. If it was just that, he could handle it. But no. Not only does he owe them, but all the good things about his stupid life are entirely dependent on them. And he can't fucking stand it. His entire life has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. This whole relying on other people thing is just asking for trouble. There's going to come a day when it bites him in the ass, where karma realizes it forgot about him and pulls the rug out from under his feet, and he wishes it would just happen already. This dread, day in and day out, is eating him alive. Everything is too good, too soft and easy. Something has to give. Something always does.

Three very insistent knocks cut through the rambling.

He looks over his shoulder, confused, hands paused and curled tightly around a plate in his hands, wondering if he's just hearing things again or not.

Another three, somehow more insistent, knocks echo throughout the apartment.

Definitely real, then. He carefully sets the dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel he has neatly folded and hanging on the cabinet knob below the sink. He gives his hands a once-over, making sure they're truly clean before he takes the five steps necessary to make it to the doorway. His focus narrows down to the heartbeat beyond it, and his confusion mostly dissipates into nothing as he slides the door aside, coming face to face with Liam.

"Why are you here?" He asks, brows scrunching further together as his eyes land on the pot in the wolf's hands. "And why do you have a plant?"

Liam laughs, his smile only growing along with the all too playful gleam in his eyes that Theo has come to be as wary of as Stiles' manic one. It never ends well for anyone involved. And it especially won't for him if he doesn't get the weird fire searing the backsides of his ribs under control.

"I brought you a friend," he says, holding up the plant as if that, in any way, answers the question.

Theo scoffs, an offended sneer pinching his face tight. "I have friends."

The truly unimpressed, deadpan look Liam levels at him resembles the patented Hale version, down to the arching eyebrow raise, though it's quickly ruined by a renewed smile as he laughs and says, "Name one friend you have that isn't me."

For a second, Theo gapes at him, fish mouthing at air. His mouth twists into a scowl, ready to tell Liam to eat shit, before he snaps his fingers, smiling as he announces,  "Anika. She counts as a friend."

Liam's face does three lightning quick reactions at once before he lands on something that might be considered neutral to anyone who isn't Theo. He doesn't have time to ask about it, though, because he shoves the plant into Theo's chest with enough force that he lets out a quiet oof as air rushes from his chest.