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Just as always, the animal clinic smelled strongly of all sorts of cleaning chemicals that left Oliver's throat feeling stuffy and his eyes watering. Suppressing the urge to cough turns out to be a fatal mistake and soon Oliver is practically choking, tasting the dangerous toxins on the tip of his tongue.

Sofía spared him nothing more than a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure he was still living and breathing before brushing off her concern and focusing on the matter at hand.

Deaton remained in the examination room, doing whatever he did to keep busy. Sofía wished desperately to join him rather than nervously await the arrival of Derek with a stressed-out Scott and a possibly dying Oliver. But she stayed put, knowing her presence would ease the fizzling nerves palpitating through Scott's entire being.

He could handle it without her. Without a doubt. But he could handle it better with her there. Someone to put Derek in his place should he step out of line. Someone not afraid of the empty threat of having their throat ripped out by his teeth. Because she could fire a bullet between his eyes much quicker than his teeth could pierce the delicate skin of her jugular.

Finally, Derek's tall silhouette crept out of the shadows flickering about the parking lot, approaching the clinic door with long strides. Behind him lingered a taller, lankier built outline of what Sofía assumed to be a teenager. With a mop of curls on his head that have grown disheveled by the soft breezes, it's easy to identify him as Isaac.

That made a look of discontent form on Oliver's face. And he wasn't discrete about it either. He rolled his eyes, huffed in an overly dramatic manner, crossed his arms across his chest, and pulled his lips into a childlike pout.

A single look at his expression made Sofía pinch the bridge of her nose and mutter an incoherent string of words under her breath in Spanish that roughly translated to 'I regret everything about my life' and 'acting like fucking children'.

Scott's reaction was similar, although somewhat less obvious. He unlocked the front door, bearing a reluctant expression that consisted of furrowed brows and pursed lips.

Tall and brody as ever, Derek stepped over the threshold of the opened door. The bell above his head rang, signaling to Deaton in the back that the awaited guest - or now, guests, plural - had arrived. Somehow, he managed to make the room appear smaller. Oliver guessed it had to do with his overbearing personality and the gloomy 'Hale' aura he seemed always to be carrying with him.

Isaac, much subtler in his way of taking the liberty to feel at home, strutted straight past both Oliver and Scott who wore matching scowls of distrust, and perched himself on Deaton's desk, seemingly unbothered by the blatant hostility shown toward him. He acknowledged Sofía's presence with an amiable nod that she was quick to return, the corners of her lips twitching upward into a slight smile.

"What is he doing here?" Scott asked rather passive-aggressively, sparing but a brief glance in Isaac's direction before looking at Derek with a scowl.

"I need him," Derek replied in a dismissive tone that pretty much ended all further questioning on the matter.

But that didn't mean Scott wouldn't try. Or that Oliver wouldn't join in to add how much he didn't like Isaac.

"I don't trust him," Scott stated matter-of-factly as he allowed the front door to fall shut, finally.

Isaac shrugged his shoulders and smiled sarcastically. "Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." the wording made it very evident that it was Scott he was referring to in his statement. Whether or not Oliver was also included, however, was unclear. The fact that he trusted Sofía, was already known.

Crazy About You - Lydia MartinWhere stories live. Discover now