It’s been almost two months since that stormy night Derek found Stiles washed up on the beach like some kinda miracle… and she hasn’t said a word about going back to the sea, not once. He hoped like hell it’d stay that way ‘cause fuck, he was head over heels in love with her— the way she lit up the house, how she was with Eli, treating him like her own blood. The kid was seven months now, even chubbier, squishier cheeks and rolls thanks to her milk, gulping it down like it was the best thing ever. Malia? Clueless as always, too wrapped up in her shopping and social bullshit to notice the glow in Stiles’s eyes or how Derek looked at her like she hung the moon.