Madness for Two (Derek x Reader)

Omen

I eyed Derek carefully as the prolonged silence stretched to distressing levels. I almost expected him to lash out at me for standing up for him, but concernedly, he stood tense and still, his eyes unfocused as he took in shallow breaths. He was in pure shock. I considered calling out to him, but before I could form the words, he seemed to snap back to reality, his eyes racing to me. I immediately looked down to avoid eye contact, but I could feel his uneasy gaze on me.

But he said nothing, and for the first time I wished he would just say anything.
To acknowledge that we just experienced the same crazy moment.
After days of praying for him to just shut up, I felt that I needed to hear his voice.

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard Derek's quick footsteps. I raised my gaze to follow his movements, watching as he scurried to his bed stand, hurriedly shuffling through the drawer, pulling out items as he searched. Sitting on the bed, he started working on something, his hands briskly moving from item to item. From where I sat, I couldn't make out exactly what he was up to, but as he picked up each item to use, I filled in the blanks and got a better understanding. The items were part of a rolling set, each piece shining radiantly with the same copper hue. Derek went through each step meticulously, grinding the flower before rolling it expertly into a tight blunt, finishing the job by adding a thick filter. Holding the cigarette in his mouth, he reached for the matching flip lighter, but as he brought the flame to the tip, I saw that his hands were trembling. Derek sighed as he took in a deep puff, exhaling the smoke in a steady stream. He stood to crack open the nearby window, a light breeze trickling into the room. As he took in another drag, his eyes flicked to me suddenly, barely giving me time to look away, but I knew he caught me staring. After a second, I heard a small thump near my feet. Looking at the source of the sound, I was stunned to see the lit blunt on the floor. Looking up, I saw Derek rolling a new cigarette, still silent as he worked. I hesitantly picked up the joint, immediately noticing its weight between my fingers. As I saw Derek light up his new blunt, I carefully brought my own to my lips, taking a small puff. Feeling the smoke filling my lungs, I was taken aback at how...amazing it was! Every aspect of the roll was perfect, a million times better than the crappy 'oregano' I had access to as a teenager. The flower was practically odorless, with fruity notes palatable from the second the smoke hit my tongue. The paper and filter were fantastic as well, providing their own hints of chocolate and coffee with an especially smooth finish. The second I exhaled, I went for another puff. And another after that. It was so amazing!

"If you want to say something, just say it," Derek suddenly said, his voice cold. I realized then that I must have been making an odd face, prompting him to say something. Looking at him, I saw that he was already through half of his joint, his previous shock reverted into his typical annoyance. I pursed my lips before speaking, hoping that I wouldn't get in trouble for sharing my thoughts. "This is...really good" I commented, my voice slightly giddy from my internal excitement. Derek seemed surprised at my words, but a smile quickly rose to his face in response. "Ha! I guess even someone like you can notice good quality when you see it," Derek started, his voice upbeat, "This is a custom strain I had my source make just for me. Designed to have minimal odor and maximum potency, this stuff is easily some of the best in the world. It would definitely be the best on the market, if it even was, but this stuff is exclusively for my use." "Does it have a name?" I asked without thinking. Luckily, Derek didn't seem to mind me speaking openly. "It's called 'Desert Dreams'" he said whimsically. Already feeling the effects of the weed, I let out a small chuckle at the dorkiness of the name, immediately panicking as I realized what I just did. But before I could beg for forgiveness, Derek responded. "Shut up, it's a cool name" he grumbled.

I was dumbfounded at the casual response. Whether it was the weed's doing, or the mood of the room, Derek was calm. Eerily so. But...I wasn't complaining.