18 ⭑ slow dances ( jared )
@lupaeus
Jared had meant to toss the wedding invitation in the trash as soon as it had arrived. That part of his life had ended years ago, and the Frenchman couldn’t say making the long flight to California for the nuptials of his ex-girlfriend’s sister appealed to him. He hadn’t even been back to Beacon Hills since Allison’s grave had been moved to the Argent family cemetery a few kilometers away from the main house, so idea that he might return now was laughable.
Yet guilt had stayed his hand. The sheriff’s son, who Lydia was apparently marrying, was the only member of the McCall pack that had truly bothered to stay in touch with him after everything. (Even if the hunter didn’t always necessarily get Stiles’ meme references, Jare appreciated the younger man was at least thinking of him.) So he’d tucked it under a magnet on the refrigerator instead and forgotten all about it. Until Isaac had come over, seen it, and promptly informed the brunet he was coming along because the werewolf refused to make the pilgrimage alone.
Which was how Jared found himself being interrogated on the dance floor; ill at ease amongst former friends and acquaintances he hadn’t seen since he and Emma had broken up years earlier, slow dancing with a woman he was (fairly) certain was a member of the bride’s family. Though he’d be the first to admit he couldn’t quite recall her name, and wasn’t even sure she had bothered introducing herself before she’d dragged him out of his seat to dance. “Ah. I suppose you could say I’m a friend of the groom’s,” he offered awkwardly, praying for rescue - or at least for the song to end - as he swayed her around. “Though I have known them both for many years.”