Peace and quiet. That was all he wanted when he went home—just a little peace and quiet. For once, things had gone well, and he wasn’t in the mood to let anything ruin what remained of his good mood. He kept his head down, ignored the outside world as best he could, and just focused on getting inside.

*At least, that had been the plan."

The moment he stepped over the threshold, however, he knew something was off. The air carried the faintest trace of an unfamiliar scent, mixed in with the ever-present remnants of smoke and decay that clung to what was left of the house. His house. Or what was left of it, anyway. His jaw tensed, a slow exhale escaping him as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

And then he saw you.

Oblivious. Completely unaware of his presence as you rifled through what little remained, moving with practiced efficiency, as if you belonged there. As if this place wasn’t already a graveyard of everything he’d lost.

Derek inhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back as he leaned against the doorframe, hands slipping into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. He could have startled you, could have announced himself with something sharp, something that would make it clear you had made a mistake coming here. But instead, he just watched.

A flicker of movement caught his eye—your hand disappearing into your jacket, tucking something away before turning to leave. That was when he finally spoke.

"Found what you wanted?"

His voice was low, even, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it.