Hunger

Chapter Seven

Derek

A few minutes down the road, we found Stile's jeep. Our stuff was still in it and surprisingly, the keys were still there as well. Stiles didn't say a word as we stopped the car and he climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car and waiting for me to get in. I didn't get in. 

"Stiles, you're still sore. Don't you think I should drive so you can get some sleep?" I suggested. I told myself I was going to be the bigger man here and talk to him, even though he refused to say a single word to me. "Stiles," I tried again. "Remember, I'm a werewolf? I can literally drag your ass out of that car by one finger. Just let me drive for a while." Mentioning the fact that I was stronger than him probably didn't help, but I was trying at least.

Stiles didn't move. He only stared straight ahead and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. I stepped closer, but he abruptly slammed the door in my face and pressed down the lock. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips, but he still didn't look at me. 

"Real mature." I shook my head and walked around to the passenger side, reluctantly climbing in and slamming my door for effect. I knew I looked annoyed, because I was. I still couldn't quite grasp the concept of being mad at someone for saving your life. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Sourwolf."

"You talked to me!" I yelled ecstatically, gripping his shoulder. Stiles shrugged me off and shook his head as he started driving down the road. He didn't say anything else. "Stiles, why can't you just talk to me? There are more ways of showing your anger than giving the silent treatment. You could hit me?" I only suggested it because I was desperate. I mean, I needed someone to talk to. Usually I didn't, but things would be awkward if we drove this entire time without speaking to each other, right?

Stiles smiled slightly, trying to conceal it by looking away, but I could still see it. "Is that a smile? Stiles, are you actually smiling?" 

"Just shut up and let me drive," he replied quietly. He sighed softly, rubbing his eyes with his fist. 

"Fine," I said. "But at least stop somewhere so we can eat. I'm starving. It has been a really long day." I really didn't need to eat, but I knew Stiles needed rest. I was a little hungry, too. It was a win-win situation. Stiles got his rest and I got to eat. 

Stiles nodded in return and switched on the radio, smacking my hand when I reached forward to turn it off. "Don't touch it," he said, his voice low. He never tried to stop me before, never was intimidating, never seemed so angry. 

I almost laughed, but the tone of his voice told me not to.  "Stiles, you're kidding right? Telling me to stop when I could-"

"Could what, Derek? Rip my throat out with your teeth? Punch me to death? Turn into a werewolf and attack me?" he replied bitterly. He glanced over at me, a frown plastered to his face. It wasn't something I liked to look at. "I know you won't hurt me, Derek. You've risked your life for me on more than one occasion. You threaten me just as much, but when it really matters, you always save my life. I know I should stop being an ass and thank you, but just let me be angry. Let me ignore you and mentally insult you and kill you multiple times in my head. I'm sure I'll be over it by tomorrow, but for now, just leave me the hell alone!" His hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white and his shoulders were tense. I could hear his heart beating faster than normal.