"You Don't Know Me" || Derek Hale

22.

I look at my finished sketch before smiling.

I finally finished it and... I love it. It turned out even better than I could've hoped for.

Suddenly, there's a knock at my window, and I jump. I turn my head, but I don't see anyone at my window. My brows furrow, and I walk over to it. I unlock it and pull it open. A hand clasps over my mouth, and I gasp. "It's just me," Derek assures me.

He removes his hand, and I huff. "Do you just get a kick out of scaring me?" I ask.

"It's kind of cute when you jump," he nods. I glare at him. "Can I come in?"

"Can I say no?" I respond.

"No," he shakes his head.

"Then, I guess you can." I step aside, and he climbs through my window. I slide the window shut and turn around to see him looking around my room. "I'm guessing it's been a while since you've been in a girl's bedroom."

"Yeah."

"Not that I don't enjoy your company, but why are you here?" I ask.

"I wanted to see you," he admits.

"Are you saying you missed me?" I ask with a raised brow.

"Maybe."

"Well, I missed you too," I smile. He glances around my room when he notices my sketchbook lying on my desk, and he walks over to it. My eyes widen as he picks it up and starts flipping through it. I rush over to him and try to snatch it out his hand, but he holds it above his head, so I can't reach it. "Derek--"

"Is there something in here you don't want me to see?" he smirks.

I scoff. "No."

"Then, you won't mind if I keep looking." He keeps flipping through it before he stops on one of the pictures. He lowers my sketchbook, and I sigh. "You drew me."

I scratch the back of my neck. "Yeah... I did."

"Why?" he questions.

"Well, I couldn't get you out of my head, and when I can't get something out of my head, I draw it," I explain.

"So you drew me?"

"Yep."

He returns the sketchbook to my desk before he walks toward me. His hands wrap around my waist before he pulls me toward him. "When did you start it?"

"Pretty much right after the first night I went to your house," I admit.

"You couldn't get me out of your head after meeting me once?"

"You made quite the impression on me," I nod before standing on my tippy toes and kissing him softly. "There's something I noticed about you the other night at the clinic."

"What's that?"

"You have a tattoo on your back."

"I do," he nods.

"What is it?" I ask.

"It's a Triskele," he replies.

"What's that?"

"Well, it's a Celtic symbol used by my family to signify my werewolf pack," he starts. "To me, it means "Alpha, Beta, and Omega" which we use to remind us that we can always rise to one rank or fall to another."

I slowly now. "Can I see it?"

He raises his brows. "I thought you already saw it at the clinic."

"I-I did, but I didn't get a good look," I defend. He pulls away from me, and I chew on my bottom lip as he pulls his shirt off. I can't help but let my eyes trail down to his chest. He turns around, and I look up at his tattoo. I reach up and trail my fingers along the ink. "How did you even get this? Wouldn't you just heal?"

"Yeah, you would. It's not the easiest process to get a tattoo where you're a werewolf," he admits as he turns around.

"I can only imagine."