𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Do you love me?

He pushes me away slightly, his lips hovering but breaths away from mine. I smile, pulling myself closer to him by grabbing his neck. His hands settle on my waist carefully, fingers folding into my shirt. I lean forward, meeting his lips in a light peck and he groans, pulling back.

"No." He tells me through gritted teeth and I move my hands to his face, he holds onto me tightly. I move my fingers into his hair and he exhales slowly, his eyes closing for a sweet second before opening up to look at me. "You're drunk." He says and with a delicate touch he removes his hands from my waist and pushes me down onto the bed.

"Didn't stop you last time," I tell him and he scoffs, looking over me as he pulls a hand through his hair.

"That was a long time ago, Y/n." He shakes his head. "Things were different back then." He explains with a pained scoff and I sit back further into the bed, my head thumping.

"Why is that?" I ask and he walks to the back of the loft, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He throws the bottle my way, making sure I caught it before going into the other room. I throw the bottle onto the bed beside me. "Come on, Derek!" I shout, getting up to follow him. I peak into the room to see him pulling off his shirt and throwing it into a pile on the floor. He sighs.

"We're not having this conversation right now." He says and I lean back against the wall, his eyes watching me carefully as I do so. "Not when you're like this." He further explains and I frown. "In fact, I think I should take you home before you do or say anything you might regret." He tells me with a superior little nod. I scoff.

"Typical." I retort bitterly, my eyes trailing over the back of his body as he walks into the bathroom. He opens the tap and lets the water run into the sink before moving to the door where he tilts his head to see me.

"What was that?" He asks in a harsh tone, folding his arms over his bare chest.

"I said that this is so very typical of you, Derek Hale." His eyebrows knit into his frown. "Although you've been so good at it, haven't you?" I shake my head, walking towards him slowly as I look to the ground. "Judging me," I inform him, my voice void as I meet his gaze, stopping when he extends an arm to grip onto my waist. He sighs.

"I'm not judging you..." He defends his touch soft as he holds me still, keeping my attention while also stopping me from moving closer. "I'm trying to look out for you like I always have to do. "He explains, his voice tired and detached with eyes dimming as he looks down at me.

"I don't want you to look out for me." I groan lifting my hands to touch his stomach.

"No, you just want me to screw you." He puts his other hand over one of mine, gripping onto my fingers before ripping himself from my touch. "The alcohol didn't numb the pain completely, so you need me to finish the job." He adds bitterly and the look on his face makes my stomach turn. He steps back and wets his hands with the hot water, splashing his face before closing the tap. "I don't know what happened to make you act like this, but I'm not going to help you forget." He explains with a sigh before pushing past me. I inhale slowly, his words repeating themselves inside my mind, the accuracy upsetting me to the point of irritation.

"I thought you loved me," I say softly, my heart fighting against using this against him, but my logic blurring into hurting him with my words as well. I turn around in time to see him still a few steps behind me. "Don't you love me anymore, Derek?" I ask, purposely keeping my tone soft, hoping that it'll play with his emotions enough to give in. He sighs.

"I don't know." He breathes out deeply. "Hell, I don't even recognize you anymore."

"Neither do I." I admit under my breath, the silence after his words making me uncomfortable. He looks at me through his lashes and I lift my hands to my face, wiping at my lips to remove the remaining lipstick. I bend down slightly to pull off my heels and my head rushes with blood making me stumble.