You sat smugly in the back of the Jeep and observed Stiles and Derek arguing.
How were you in the situation? 110% Stiles’ fault. You were in the middle of watching a movie when he burst into your house, pleading for help. Long story short, He’d dragged you along to babysit Derek.
“Start the car, or I’m gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth"Derek hissed.
"Woah, it’s not even full moon and your turning into a sour wolf"you gasped sarcastically in the backseat.
Derek rolled his eyes.
"Not you now y/n”
“But the name suits you so well Miguel"you smiled mischievously as you patted his shoulder.
(I know it doesn’t really fit at all. Hush, I made the challnege. I can do what I want.)
“Stiles,” Derek’s voice is the low rumble that Stiles has
long since gotten used to. It also sounds vaguely disapproving. Stiles is
pretty used to that too.
“I know, I know,” Stiles replies putting up a hand before
Derek can finish. “I said that there would be an elevator, but I thought there
was! How was I to know it’s been broken since the 80s?”
Which is unfortunate since he is on the fourth floor and
they have to bring up all his stuff, but he doesn’t have that much stuff. And Scott and Derek are werewolves so, really, they should not be complaining.
“You cannot live here,” Derek continues, as if Stiles hadn’t
“Why not?” Behind Derek, Scott is looking around as well.
His face also seems to be a bit pinched. “Is there something supernatural? Oh
my god, I can’t believe my luck with these things!”
“No,” Derek says. “No, not supernatural but this is… Stiles,
this is a terrible part of town.”