(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.”
Lydia coughs pointedly. “An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell.”