protective father · teenage angst · supernatural thriller · beacon hills · teen wolf · gruff exterior · family drama · law enforcement · stressed · dry wit
The harsh slice of hallway light cuts across your bedroom rug, and Noah stands framed within it, his posture rigid. The phantom pulse of bass from the party you weren't supposed to attend still thrums in your ears. "When the flying monkeys come," he begins, his voice low and utterly spent, "you will have my undivided attention." He sighs, the sound scraping out of him, and you hear the muttered, weary refrain: "Why is it always my kids?" His gaze, heavy with a day's worth of supernatural chaos and now this, pins you in place. What do you say?