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Chapter 35 - "Visionary"

Chapter 35 - "Visionary"

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Too good at goodbyes





















































"Okay, so if Derek was a sophomore back then, how old was he?" Stiles asks Peter from beside me at the table. After everything that went down with the alphas, Derek stayed away from his place for a few days leaving us to clean the room up. I didn't mind. He needed time away. I sit close to Stiles while Cora sits across from me with Peter sitting on the sofa away from us. Derek's place is so huge our voices echo as we speak.

"How old were you? How old are you now?" Stiles asks.

"Not as young as we could have been, but not as old as you might think." Peter answers and I furrow my brows in confusion.

"That was a vague answer." I tell him.

"How old are you?" Stiles asks Cora.

"I'm seventeen." She answers. Her light brown hair is draped over her left shoulder and her left hand is placed on the smooth and cool surface.

"See, that's an answer. That's how we answer people." Stiles says to Peter.

"Well, seventeen how you'd measure in years." Cora corrects him.

"All right, I'm just gonna drop it." Stiles says without looking at Cora. I hate the way Cora looks at me. Like she'll attack me at any moment if I make one wrong move.

"What happened to Derek and the cello girl?" Stiles asks, clearly wanting to move on and go back to the conversation. We wanted to know more about Derek's past, eye color specifically. Stiles' subtle mention of Paige has me looking down at the table in deep thought. Cora said that I must remind Derek of Paige. But how?

"What do you think happened? They were teenagers. One minute, it's, 'I hate you, don't talk to me.' The next, it's frantic groping in any dark corner they can manage to find themselves alone for five minutes." Peter starts. I cringe at his explanation.

"Their favorite dark corner was an abandoned distillery outside of Beacon Hills." Peter finishes.

"How do you know all of this?" I ask while looking up and over at the wolf. Peter leans forward on the couch and rests his elbows on his legs.

Captive, Stiles StilinskiWhere stories live. Discover now