Derek rolled his eyes again. "Just pretend that I am. I can threaten it if you like? Stiles, I'm leaving, it's all your fault." His voice and face were both deadpan.
He dug into the basket and pulled out the container of soup, opening it and inhaling. Beef stew and brownies. The elves were wonderful. "I love the elves."
Derek sat down at his small table (he was going to miss having his own table, and his own bed, and his own couch, and his own everything, why couldn't the headmaster just listen to reason) and gestured for Stiles to sit as well. "There's enough for both of us, if you're hungry. Or want dessert."