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Summer is truly starting to set in as the sun rises slowly in the blue, cloudless sky, and the birds outside are chirping merrily. But with the large window covering most of the wall in the main living space and the sunlight above, Derek stirs with a groan, burying his face further into the warm pillow and the covers surrounding him to shield his sensitive eyes.
He feels a little groggy as he starts to pull himself out from the depths of sleep, not that far from what it feels like after experiencing wolfsbane in his system, and, what he can only assume, it feels like to have a hangover.
It doesn't take long for him to fully come to his senses and when he does he jolts up with a start. Brigid. He looks to his right where she's still lying beside him, but thankfully he doesn't appear to have disturbed her. She looks peaceful in slumber, he thinks, unable to remove his eyes from her sleeping form, and he reaches out without thinking about it, carefully brushing the wild strands of red hair away from her face. He finds himself smiling, almost as if nothing's changed and they're still teenagers without a care in the world, but the weight of the darkness around his heart doesn't let him forget for long.
He's glad she's here, he realises, even though he still can't let himself believe it's going to last; he wants to, but he can't. The second he starts to let himself hope, he knows everything can only go downhill from there, it always does. But maybe if she sticks around long enough, if she manages to settle without bolting as soon as she discovers every single sordid detail, and he knows she's going to have to meet the others at some point.
Derek carefully manoeuvres himself into a sitting position, back against the head of the bed and covers hanging over his clothed lap. He didn't plan to sleep through the entire night and half of the morning as well, but he needed it, and he knows that Brigid did as well. And he can already feel a lot of the weariness gone from the solid night of sleep. He catches the fresh scent of Isaac, but he can't hear his heartbeat from within the loft, so he knows he must have been and gone, always trying to stay out of his way to make sure he's not a nuisance. He doesn't mind having him around, though, and it's not as if either of them have anyone else, but he can't help feeling relief that he can hold off on introductions a while longer until he can catch her up with the recent going-ons.
He doesn't know how long he sits there, watching as the sun fully rises in the sky and glancing down to the woman beside him, a woman he never thought he would get to meet and the memories of the girl she used to be faded from the hard years that followed. He's an alpha, yes, but he knows he's far from perfect, that he wasn't born to the role, and that he's going to make a lot more mistakes before he finds his feet. And he's still got a long way to go before he can be anything to anyone beyond that, but if she's at his side then he thinks he can learn to try that much harder to discover who he was supposed to be before he got thrown off course.
He feels a little groggy as he starts to pull himself out from the depths of sleep, not that far from what it feels like after experiencing wolfsbane in his system, and, what he can only assume, it feels like to have a hangover.
It doesn't take long for him to fully come to his senses and when he does he jolts up with a start. Brigid. He looks to his right where she's still lying beside him, but thankfully he doesn't appear to have disturbed her. She looks peaceful in slumber, he thinks, unable to remove his eyes from her sleeping form, and he reaches out without thinking about it, carefully brushing the wild strands of red hair away from her face. He finds himself smiling, almost as if nothing's changed and they're still teenagers without a care in the world, but the weight of the darkness around his heart doesn't let him forget for long.
He's glad she's here, he realises, even though he still can't let himself believe it's going to last; he wants to, but he can't. The second he starts to let himself hope, he knows everything can only go downhill from there, it always does. But maybe if she sticks around long enough, if she manages to settle without bolting as soon as she discovers every single sordid detail, and he knows she's going to have to meet the others at some point.
Derek carefully manoeuvres himself into a sitting position, back against the head of the bed and covers hanging over his clothed lap. He didn't plan to sleep through the entire night and half of the morning as well, but he needed it, and he knows that Brigid did as well. And he can already feel a lot of the weariness gone from the solid night of sleep. He catches the fresh scent of Isaac, but he can't hear his heartbeat from within the loft, so he knows he must have been and gone, always trying to stay out of his way to make sure he's not a nuisance. He doesn't mind having him around, though, and it's not as if either of them have anyone else, but he can't help feeling relief that he can hold off on introductions a while longer until he can catch her up with the recent going-ons.
He doesn't know how long he sits there, watching as the sun fully rises in the sky and glancing down to the woman beside him, a woman he never thought he would get to meet and the memories of the girl she used to be faded from the hard years that followed. He's an alpha, yes, but he knows he's far from perfect, that he wasn't born to the role, and that he's going to make a lot more mistakes before he finds his feet. And he's still got a long way to go before he can be anything to anyone beyond that, but if she's at his side then he thinks he can learn to try that much harder to discover who he was supposed to be before he got thrown off course.
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She leans her head against Derek’s shoulder, glad for the closeness. Brigid’s always been quietly tactile with people, and while she hasn’t really had that the last few years, It’s nice to be able to take advantage of it again.
Hopefully, Isaac won’t find it too uncomfortable.
“Should I put dinner together?” She asks, looking between the two.
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He seems suddenly recovered from the whole meeting, perking up, and Isaac, not surprisingly, looks incredibly interested.
"I'll help," Isaac offers, flashing one of his puppy smiles, and eagerly rushing off ahead of them, heading back up to the loft.
Derek watches Isaac go and rolls his eyes. "I'll have to remember to use that whenever I want to get rid of him for a while."
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Brigid feels as if her smile will become permanent. There are things that she missed, distancing herself from Markus and the others these past few months and weeks. "Well, it's not going to be anything fancy. Just chicken potpie. Tomorrow, I'll make the beans for enchiladas and make Senora Montoya's salsa."
To her, it's no big deal. She used to cook like this all the time. Now, there are people who need her to cook.
However.
she does hope for some alone time with Derek tonight. They might not have a normal wedding night (she wouldn't object. Nope. Not objecting. The promise of puberty had paid off, okay?) but it is their wedding night and as sweet as Isaac is, she wants some time alone with her husband. "Isaac, start cleaning the carrots and the potatoes." She calls after the young man. "Teens and food. It used to get me somewhere, especially if I didn't have to cook it all."
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"Chicken potpie sounds great," he assured her, offering out his bent arm for her to take as he turns towards the building at large. "You being here and taking over the kitchen is saving Isaac from a world of takeout and burnt, unidentifiable meals."
He simply smiles at her, light and easy, and he finds it freeing, as if a weight he didn't realise was there has been lifted from him, and it's all because of her.
"Come on," he prompts, leading them back inside, "The sooner we feed him, the quicker he'll be off to Scott's for the night." He may or may not have had a little - albeit, awkward - chat with his beta earlier in the day, and the two of them had come to an understanding. Well, at least he thinks that was the outcome, but he wouldn't put it passed Isaac to hold it over him for something in his favour later on.
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She slips her hand through his arm and follows him into the loft. His warmth sinks into her and she’s glad of it, since it, and the heat outside might explain the slight flush on her cheekbones. She hates being pasty white Irish. It’s literally a pain in the knee sometimes.
Once inside, she folds her sleeves back and ties them up. Now, they’re out of her way. “Alright, Isaac, stop mangling the carrots.”
“I’m not!” Isaac complains but steps to the side, letting her in there.
She immediately starts working on the pastry that will cover the entire thing.
“Derek? Can you come scrape potatoes?” She calls, smiling over her shoulder at him.