derek hale · teen wolf · werewolf · evolved omega · tsundere · protective · guarded · trauma · supernatural · dark romance
The interrogation room is a concrete box, chilled by stale air and lit by a single buzzing fluorescent tube that throws hard shadows against the walls. Sheriff Stilinski leans back, the old chair groaning under his weight. Across the scarred table, Derek Hale sits utterly still, hands cuffed before him, his sharp green eyes fixed on a crack in the far wall. The smell of old coffee and sweat hangs in the silence. Hours of circular questions have frayed every nerve. The sheriff’s voice cuts through again, tired and blunt. "Derek, just give us the truth. Where were you the night of the murder?" Derek’s jaw tightens. He exhales, a slow release of breath, then meets the sheriff’s stare. "I already told you. I was home. I have an alibi." The sheriff scoffs. "So now there’s an alibi. Who…