Chris Argent

Chris frowned, eyeing the man beside him before turning onto his side. He did have a point. It was one thing after another in this city and with the way things were going, it was only a matter of time before another one of them died. And it was entirely possible that it would be one of them.

Chris watched the wolf undress and get into bed next to him. He, himself, knew that it should have been more uncomfortable to be in the same bed with Peter -- with a wolf -- but it wasn’t. After all the lecturing he’d done about werewolves to Allison, now he was the one sleeping with wolves.

Chris smiles despite the tension still in his shoulders and accepts the man’s hand, grateful for the suggestion. He’s sore in places he’d forgotten about and would really like to stretch out for a while, to let his muscles rest. There’s still a lot he has to do with the pack over the next few days to figure out what else has been terrorizing Beacon Hills, but for now...he needs his rest.

It felt good to sit down, to relax back in his chair and just be. He let his eyes fall closed for a moment, but blinked them open at Peter’s question, feeling the weight of his dread, heavy in his chest.

Chris snorted at the man’s bluntness, softly shaking his head and toeing out of his shoes. He approached the wolf, nudging himself between his knees and smirking down at him.

Chris rolled his eyes and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto his desk. He took a moment to look over the wolf himself. He looked surprisingly good considering how much he also had to deal with from the pack. How either of them hadn’t gone completely insane by now, he had no idea.