Hunger

Chapter Fourteen

Stiles

I didn't remember falling asleep, especially since the last thing I did remember was being in that diner with Derek, Will, and Charlie. I remembered seeing the man in my nightmares, who was holding a dead werewolf -Malia- in his hands and had a dead werewolf -Scott- at his feet. It had been terrifying, but I still didn't remember passing out. I didn't remember coming here, to this hotel where I was surprisingly alone. Wasn't the point of coming here to keep me safe and never let me be alone?

I jumped to the corner of the room when the doorknob began to wiggle, hoping it was just Derek and not some ax murderer, because I think if it was, I'd die from fear. The door pushed open and light flooded through, which meant it was still day time. Derek was standing there, his eyes locked on me. He opened his mouth to speak, stepped closer, and then he changed. Maybe it wasn't real, but my imagination was morphing guys I really liked into monsters and I really didn't appreciate it. 

"Get away from me!" I screeched, because even if it was Derek seconds ago, it wasn't him now. It was this thing with black pits where eyes should be and claws bigger than the usual werewolf ones I was used to. I could do nothing but cower in fear, shrinking back into the corner until I couldn't be any smaller. The monster didn't stop inching closer. It's mouth, which was really just a hole in it's face, was moving and making creepy sounds. I whimpered, tried to scream, but it sounded muffled. It was still getting closer. "STOP!!" I tried again, and the thing stopped in front of me. I was crying like a baby, but I didn't care. This thing looked like it was going to kill me and that's not okay. 

"Stiles," Derek's voice said, but it wasn't Derek. It couldn't be. This thing wasn't Derek. "Stiles, it's me." Then I made the brave decision to open my eyes again, even though I feared I might faint. I could hear myself crying now, the embarrassing sobs uncontrollably loud. Derek was himself, standing right where that thing stood a couple moments ago. 

"Derek," I choked out, reaching towards him. I really didn't want anyone else right now, just Derek. I was still sobbing, but it was quieter, mostly because my head was pounding and that was nearly unbearable. "It wasn't real," I whispered as he dropped to the carpet beside me. He wrapped me in a hug as soon as I crawled over into his lap. His arms felt safe around me, like nothing could hurt me. I buried my face in his neck, my hands clutching at the collar of his shirt as if he might disappear. He smelled like sweat and coffee, which probably had something to do with the abandoned tipped-over coffee cup near the end of the bed. 

"It wasn't real," Derek reassured me, which sounded much better coming out of his mouth then it did mine. He pressed his palms against the small of my back, bringing me even closer against him. He was so warm and I was freezing so much my teeth were chattering. 

"It's cold," I told him, and he hugged me tighter but shook his head. 

"You're burning up, Stiles. There's no way you're getting a blanket. You'll overheat and die," Derek replied gruffly, his voice thick with worry. Derek carded a hand through my hair and unexpectedly pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "You need to cool off, really."

I laughed weakly, but gripped him tighter because I wasn't ready to stop doing this yet. "In a minute, sourwolf," I teased with a smile, even though he couldn't see it. I leaned forward slightly to press a warm kiss to his collarbone, satisfied with the surprised gasp that he tried to cover up with a cough. I tested it again, this time kissing his collarbone and moving up to his neck. Derek didn't object, so I kept going, attaching my lips to his neck and sucking, but not enough to leave a mark. Derek even moaned a little, so I knew it was okay when I readjusted myself to straddle him and kissed the spot behind his ear, biting slightly when his hands squeezed my thighs.