𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

THE LOSER HAS TO FALL

AN UNLIKELY SIGHT GREETED THEM AT THE DOOR TO THE LOFT.

"It's just like old times," Emerson laughed, masking the painful sensation that the motion brought with a large smile.

Peter matched the smile, though his brow was raised. "What, are we expecting another alpha pack already?"

She smacked his arm. "Don't jinx it."

Derek rolled his eyes, but nonetheless peeled back the door that revealed the state of the loft. Isaac grimaced, surveying the grim scene. "This places looks gross," after a narrowed look from Derek, the boy back-tracked, "no offence. It looks lovely the other, uh, eighty nine percent of the time."

Emerson hummed, her hand mindlessly resting on the side of her stomach. "That's... oddly specific."

"But am I wrong?" he asked her, and her silence gave him the answer he was looking for. "Exactly."

Peter let himself in, sauntering over to the desk in the corner that looked worse for wear. Papers were scattered beneath it, and he happily went over to investigate. Isaac, when left to his own devices, simply went toward the couch where the cushions were left in complete disarray.

Hell, it looked like someone tried to flip the damn thing over, but failed and settled on ruining the cushions instead. The whole place had looked better, and she could only wonder what transpired while they'd been at the cabin and while she had been taken hostage.

Derek was still beside her, his body facing hers. "You owe me a conversation," he said with a small grin, his arms crossed over his chest.

She leaned against one of the beams that supported the loft, shaking her head. "We can have all the conversations you want," she started, just before she gestured around the space, "after we clean this shit up."

Derek gave her a huff, but sauntered off in the direction of the massive hole in the wall. Emerson took that as a yes, pushing off the beam herself before she walked over to Issac. The boy obviously struggling to figure out which cushions went where.

"A conversation?" he inquired with a wiggle of his eyebrows, voice kept in a hush despite the loft's occupants being more than able to hear him.

Emerson shoved at his side. "A conversation between two adults," she replied, "meaning: no Isaac."

His face twisted up. "Oh, so Peter can hear it but I can't?" he scoffed. "That's pretty rude, Em."

"No Peter, either," she chuckled, turning her head slightly as to block the boy from seeing her wince. "It's between Derek and I, that's all. Don't be all nosey about it."

"Oh, so you're finally revealing your undying love for each other? Is it that?"

Emerson sputtered, a sudden cough wracking her body as she tried to dismiss Isaac's words with a wave. "You're full of shit, Lahey."

"Deflecting... how interesting," he goaded on, a smirk on his face from how her cheeks turned a light red.

"I—" the defensive look on her face dropped as her stomach gave a vicious churn. "I–I need to—"

Emerson shot off in the direction of the bathroom, shaky legs wobbling with each step she made before she reached her destination. She might as well have ripped the hinges off, all but slamming the door behind her before toppling to the ground.