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The Fragility of Privacy

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The restaurant they’d picked for their anniversary was beautiful. Out of town, low lighting, soft music, the murmured conversations of other patrons giving them the illusion of privacy… A perfect setting for a rare, stress-free, moment alone. 

A tux-clad waiter showed them to their table, a secluded booth where they could be out of sight, hidden from prying eyes. The precaution seemed unnecessary with how far they were from Beacon Hills and everyone that knew them, but old habits die hard. It wouldn’t do to reveal that they’d rekindled the feelings they’d once had as teenagers into something passionate and lasting, so much more fulfilling than either of them could have ever dreamed.

Leather bound menus were placed in front of them before the waiter whirled away, tall and graceful in his precision as he wove through the maze of tables, taking orders and fetching wine as he went.

They sat and just looked at each other, revelling in the moment of quiet seclusion. Chris thought Peter looked to be at blissful peace in a way he’d never seen before, and Peter, privately, thought that he could never be happier than he was in that moment.

“I love this,” Peter breathed, a soft, vulnerable expression sweeping over his features. It was one of those magical looks that you maybe only get to witness a handful of times over the course of your life and Chris found himself struck with the inexplicable need to tell Peter how much he loved him.  


”Yes, Chris?” 

There was a ruckus starting at the front of the restaurant but regardless the candlelight flickered delicately and the music played on. 

”I just want to tell you-”

”How right I was!” 

Both of them turned and blanched when they saw Erica, Lydia, Stiles, and Allison marching up to their table, their harried waiter trying to keep up and attempting to get them to leave simultaneously. 

Chris and Peter let go of each other’s hands as if they’d been burned and the impervious expression Peter wore as armour was firmly back in place by the time the four had stormed the table. Chris mourned the loss for he didn’t know when he’d ever get to behold it again, vowing that if he ever did he’d preserve it in white gold.

”See! I told you-” 

”Ma’am, please-” 

”-they were fucking!” Erica crowed.

Allison was staring at him like she’d never seen him before while Stiles managed to look vaguely disappointed that Creeperwolf was, in fact, human along with the rest of the world. It was only Lydia who remained unaffected, seeming pensive above all else. 

The other patrons had ceased their conversations, possibly even the music had been turned down too, as the whole restaurant watched the scene unfolding before them. 

And then they were all talking at once. 


”What are you doing-”

”Hale and Argent, who would’ve-” 

”You owe me-”

”You followed-”

”If I may interject.” Lydia piped up, using the tone of voice that meant she was not to be trifled with, ”We have interrupted and this whole establishment is watching. Allison.” She turned to her. ”Save the burning questions until you get home. Stiles! Erica!” She barked to get the attention of the two who were gossiping and steadfastly ignoring the stony frown marring Peter’s brow. ”We’re leaving.” 

”But we just got here!” Erica whined. ”I’ve not had nearly enough fun yet.” 

”You’ve created a scene. We’re leaving.” 

Lydia turned and proceeded to the exit and like puppies on leashes, Stiles and Erica followed, albeit reluctantly, out of the restaurant and back to the parking lot, Allison trailing stiffly behind.

The waiter watched Lydia leave like a goddess he wanted to worship at the feet of.

Embarrassment wasn’t something Peter was especially familiar with but with his head ducked to the table, hiding his mortified face, it was clear they were becoming adequately acquainted. 

Chris was the first to break the tense silence even as the idle chatter around them surged up again. 

”Peter, I-” 

”There’s nothing to say.” Peter bit. ”They know and that’s that.” 

”Yeah,” Chris said lamely, ”yeah. I guess they do.”