The Hell You Came From [Derek/FemStiles]

Draw You

Stiles no longer feels that weird niggling in the pit of her stomach and at the back of her mind–like somehow she can feel Derek calling for her. However, she still feels the need to make sure he’s OK.

So, when his mother enters the dining area without him, Stiles is rising from her seat and walking to meet the woman halfway. “Is he–“

“He’s fine, but very tired, darling. He’s just dressing himself.” Talia cuts her off with a soft knowing smile. “In fact–“ She continues after noticing Stiles’ plate is still empty, ”–why don’t you go up to him, and I’ll keep a plate for you both, whenever you’re ready.”

Stiles smiles and nods.

Though, she’s blushing heavily when a few members of the pack chuckle and mutter teasingly under their breaths. And then, she smirks when their Alpha shoots them all a warning glare, and a deadly silence follows.

Talia smiles pleasantly before looking back at Stiles. “Just call out if you get lost.” She gives the girl’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze before finally joining her pack for her dinner.

***
If this were any other time, Stiles would stop along the way to admire the stunning layout of this place.

She sort of remembers where she’s going. Mostly muscle memory assisting her from those days her mother just used to let her wander around to keep herself entertained.

Stiles reaches the end of one of the upstairs hallways and suddenly stops when she realises she actually is lost. “Shit...” She mumbles, sighs loudly before timidly calling out to him. “Derek...?”

“Hey.”

“Oh, my fuck!” Stiles startles.

She swirls around to see Derek poking his head out of what she assumes is his bedroom. But what annoys her is the amused little smirk tugging at his lips. (OK, it may endear her, too.)

“Sorry.” Derek mumbles, fighting the growing of his smirk. He pushes his door wider open and holds out a hand to her. “Come on.”

Stiles chuckles as she takes in the black jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing. “I realise this is the first time I’ve seen you properly dressed.”

Why the fuck did I just say that??

Or never mind, she thinks, because now, he’s blushing, and Stiles just thinks it’s the cutest darn thing she’s ever seen.

Derek almost finds something witty and clever to say back to her.

But then, she’s moving closer and slipping her hand into his, and now, he’s just doing everything he can to focus on not pulling her flush against him and devouring her mouth with his own.

Instead, Derek takes a silent breath to calm himself. He sends her a smile, feels his pulse spike as she smiles back at him. He gives her hand a small squeeze before gently tugging her into his room.

Stiles doesn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this...

Derek closes his door, lets her hand slip from his when she begins to lose herself in looking around. He stands nervously where he is, simply watching and waiting. (Really, mostly just watching her.)

Stiles stands in the middle of his bedroom–two walls are completely lined with shelves of books, his bed (which is neatly made) is just under the window, a small nightstand placed next to it (and covered with more books and papers), there’s even more papers and books stacked all over his desk, a laptop in the centre with an empty coffee mug, there’s a couple of dumbbells set on top of the large wooden chest set at the end of his bed, there’s a door at one wall, half open and revealing itself as a walk-in closet, the walls are all a light apple green colour, the floorboards are nearly polished with a large navy blue rug in the middle, and there’s a few philosophical posters hung up along the other wall.