#loversthe

For a second, he just stands there, blinking at her like she’s said something in a foreign language. Oldest friend. Worst friend. Best friend. It loops in his head, knocking around like an echo in an empty room. He exhales, shaking his head, a half-laugh slipping out. Not a happy one, not really, but something tired, something Dexter.

“ Right. Okay. That’s . . . a lot to take in, ” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “ I mean, I get best friend, obviously. That one’s a given. The worst friend bit? I suppose I deserve that. Actually, no— I definitely deserve that. ” He huffs out another breath, shifting on his feet like he can’t quite stand still. “ But oldest friend? Em, come on. Tilly Killick would have a bloody fit if she heard you say that. ”

It’s meant to be a joke, something to break the weight of whatever this is, but it doesn’t quite land. Not properly. Because when he looks at her — really looks at her — there’s something behind her eyes that knocks the wind out of him. That familiar mix of frustration & affection, exhaustion & something else. Something he’s never quite had the guts to name.

His throat feels tight. He swallows. “ I know I make it hard sometimes, ” he admits, softer now, his voice rough at the edges. “ I know I— ” A pause. A shake of his head, like even he doesn’t know how to untangle the mess of himself. “ God, I know I’ve been a nightmare. But you— ” He stops, exhales sharply, tries again. “ You’ve always been there. Even when you shouldn’t have been. Even when I’ve been selfish & awful & just . . . me. ” A beat.

“ I think that’s why you’re my best friend, ” he says, almost like he’s realizing it as he speaks. “ Because you know exactly the kind of person I am & somehow, for some reason, you still bother with me. ” His mouth quirks, but there’s no cockiness in it, no bravado— just something unsteady, something unsure. “ Even when I’m being the worst. ”

she knows he's home before the door creaks open.     it had only taken caroline a couple of days to get acquainted with the heaviness of his footsteps, and his smell was . . . different from other wolves she's been around.     when his frame appears on the doorway, caroline flashes him a small but gentle smile.     " hey. "     it's still awkward between them, but she's trying to make it work.     they have no choice but to try.     " i was starting to think you wouldn't be back before i went to bed for the night. "     her voice is light in an attempt to be playful, hoping to lighten up the mood as she quickly scrambles to her feet and makes her way over to where he's sitting by the window.

the last thing she's expecting is for blake to pull her down into his lap, but she doesn't protest nor does she pull back.     her hands fall to his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.     " are you okay ? "     she asks in a faint whisper, inhaling deeply to try and regain control over her stupid racing heart.     she's not the only one with enhanced hearing, after all.     " i'm here if you want to talk. "

no one had ever captured the first son's attention like his royal highness, the prince of england. and henry had alex's attention. @loversthe had all of alex's attention. it was becoming a problem because all he ever wanted was to be with henry, and when they weren't together all he could think about was henry. it was a vicious cycle of never having enough of henry and missing henry when he was gone. pieces of him or none of him. but never all of him.

She says it so simply, like it’s nothing, like it’s just a thing people say when they’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to find their way out of a maze. But it lands like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air out of him in a way he doesn’t quite know how to recover from.

He swallows, glancing at her & for a second, he forgets himself. Forgets the suit that suddenly feels too tight around his neck, forgets the weight of the past three years pressing down on him, forgets that they aren’t — can’t be — the same people they used to be. Because it’s her. After three years, after everything, it’s her.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to find something light to say, something easy. But the words feel stuck, tangled up in all the things he shouldn’t be thinking. “ Yeah, well, ” he starts, forcing a smirk, though it feels unsteady. “ Not my worst detour. ” A pause & then, softer, almost like an afterthought— “ Not by a long shot. ”

That’s the thing, isn’t it? That’s the bloody problem. He could be in a maze for hours, days, years, but if she’s next to him, it wouldn’t feel so bad. It never has. But then reality rushes back in like a cold wind. His engagement. The baby. The fact that this — whatever this feeling is, whatever it’s always been — isn’t something he’s allowed to touch anymore.

Dexter blinked, convinced he must have misheard. “ You want a— what, now? ” His voice came out half a laugh, half a cough, as if his brain had tripped over itself trying to process the words. But Emma didn’t waver. She was looking at him with that steady, determined expression that meant she wasn’t joking.

A baby. Now. The weight of it settled in his chest, heavier than he expected. His first instinct was to deflect, to make some wry comment, but for once, he couldn’t seem to find the joke. It wasn’t as if the thought had never crossed his mind. The idea of a child with Emma — someone who had her wit, her stubbornness, maybe even his eyes if they were lucky — had been lingering somewhere in the back of his head for a while now. But it had always been eventually, a future possibility, not something that needed an answer today.

Now was good. Now was steady. It was him & Emma in their little life together, the life they’d fought so damn hard for. It was lazy mornings in bed, late nights tangled in each other, stolen weekends in some tiny hotel where they drank too much & slept too little. It was getting to be a proper father to Jazz, making up for the times he’d been a disappointment, seeing his daughter settle into this new version of their family. But a baby . . . that was a different kind of now. A forever kind of now.

Dexter ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “ You do realize that once we do this, there’s no going back? ” he said, attempting a grin. “ No refunds, no exchanges? ” It was meant as a joke, but his voice sounded rougher than he expected. Because even with the panic creeping in, even with the old fears whispering that he would never be good enough for something like this, there was another part of him — quiet but insistent — that was already imagining it.

Emma, holding their baby. Him, rocking them to sleep. Jazz, becoming an older sister, rolling her eyes but secretly adoring them. A tiny hand reaching for his, another little voice calling him Dad. Christ. He shook his head, half in disbelief, half in surrender. “ You really don’t do things by halves, do you? ” Then he reached for her, threading his fingers through hers, grounding himself in the feel of her hand, the warmth of her skin. He swallowed hard, heart hammering & then, before he could think too much, before he could talk himself out of it, he said the only thing that made sense.

Kira blinked, her fingers freezing mid-fidget with the strap of her bag. She had been rambling about something — probably homework, or maybe the latest supernatural disaster they were trying to survive — but whatever it was, the words vanished from her mind the second Scott spoke. Her heart did this weird, fluttery thing, like it couldn’t decide whether to leap out of her chest or just melt on the spot.

Pretty? He thought she looked pretty? She knew she was supposed to say something back, something witty or at least coherent, but all that came out was a surprised, breathless, “ Oh. ” Her face heated instantly. Great. If the glowing sword & occasional bursts of uncontrolled electricity weren’t enough to make her feel like a walking lightbulb, now she was probably blushing hard enough to actually power one.

She looked up at Scott, who was watching her with that easy, earnest smile— the one that always managed to knock her a little off balance . . . & the worst part? He wasn’t even trying. He just was like that. Kind, genuine, somehow completely unaware of the effect he had on people. Kira swallowed, forcing herself to stop overthinking. “ I— uh— thanks, ” she managed, then immediately wanted to smack herself. Really? That’s all you’ve got?