𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

A THOUGHT, A TRAP

EMERSON AVERY REALLY LIKED DEREK HALE.

That was the very thought she had woken up with, and the very one she had a minor freak out about when she went to go change that morning. Tugging on some new clothes was an easy feat, but the silent screams and frantic expressions she was making at herself in the mirror definitely took the longest amount of time.

A part of her knew that deep down, this thought had been brewing for a while now. She saw it in her actions as of late; the lingering touches, always looking for him a room, the nickname she so freely gave out to him.

Emerson hated nicknames, hated giving them out. Nicknames made people permanent, and if there was one thing the blonde had learned in all of her years, it was that no one was permanent. Permanency was an illusion, and attachments always backfired in the end.

The exact moment that he had gone from Derek to Dere? She wouldn't know. To her, it was a cumulation of tiny moments, sprinkled around her to form the one massively intrusive thought that she had woken up with.

She liked him.

Was it even like, or was the all encompassing feeling in her chest something stronger than that?

After promptly pinching her nose, making a mental note of all the ways that this could end so horribly for her, she plastered the most convincing smile on her face before she exited. She asked him about pancakes for crying out loud, anything to get her mind off of her most recent revelation.

That had been two days ago, and the pancakes they ended up making had been a huge hit. She could tell Derek wasn't the biggest fan of blueberries in the batter, but he ate every single one that she made without a fuss. She didn't know whether to be touched or to slap him for not speaking up— because yeah, she had bought a small pack of chocolate chips just incase he were to speak up anyway.

They were getting along swimmingly, worries of the real world at the backs of their minds as time in the cabin progressed. She roused a few good laughs out of the man, some so hearty that she felt like her own smile was splitting her face in half in response.

At that point, the pair were settled on the couch, a black and white movie playing on the boxed television in front of them. They hadn't packed up the pullout, knowing it almost lead to another dispute about the sleeping arrangement those same two days ago, so they merely took to opposite sides of it.

Neither thought about sleeping anywhere other than the pullout, other than beside one another, after that. Neither mentioned the way they'd usually wake up closer together than they'd been before they went to sleep, too.

Funny.

Derek hadn't seen many older movies, far more interested in contemporary action movies (and that came as no shock to Emerson), while the blonde was practically raised on them. She showed him the stash that the Prescotts kept, the pair slowly going down the list of her favourite's since Derek seemed happy to oblige.

The ringing of a cellphone could be heard, cutting through the audio from the television as it came from the bedroom. Given that Derek didn't bring his, Emerson's body kicked into gear because it was hers— hers that she had silenced before they left.

Meaning, whoever was calling had managed to evade her do not disturb status.

Derek was hit on her tail hen she entered the room, spitting her phone screen lit up on the side table she had abandoned it on. The caller ID was one she recognized, albeit hadn't expected. "Why the hell is your uncle calling me?"