The squeaking of the stairs woke him. (or her, or them...)
The squeaking of the stairs woke him.
Not the squeaking itself but the fact that it was in the middle of the night and the house should have been completely quiet. Allison was out with the pack; they had a movie night or something, to celebrate their win against the latest monster that decided to visit Beacon Hills.
Chris sighed and reached for his gun. He hadn’t been sleeping just yet but it was a close thing. His age made itself know rather often these days and on some days he wondered how he had actually managed to stay alive until that moment.
“Keep the gun down, it’s just me.” The voice was rough from tiredness but the familarity of it sent a shiver down Chris’ spine. His head dropped back against the headrest of the armchair he had settled in.
“Peter,” he huffed. Of course it was the wolf. Who else would dare to sneak into the house of a hunter and know weapon handler. Nobody who was in their right mind and seeing as Peter Hale was, well, Peter Hale. Chris stopped the thought before he finished it. He was too tired to let his thoughts run around in circles. Again.
“Chris,” the smile was audible and infectious. It always had been. “You should be sleeping.” A thud echoed through the room. Probably Peter’s coat slipping off whatever surface he had put it.
“Can’t,” he opened his eyes and looked over at the oher man. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be hold up in a motel room or something?” Peter just shrugged and came closer.
“Can’t sleep either, too many thoughts in my head.” Chris looked up when Peter stopped right next to his seat. Their gazes locked and for a moment they weren’t a hunter and a werewolf; they were just two men with a troubled past.
“Want to stay here tonight?”
Hey Darling! I hope you liked it! It was fun to write those two again and it certainly sets the mood right.^^
SEND ME THE FIRST SENTENCE OF A FIC, AND I WILL WRITE THE REST.