"What if he thinks I'm weird? What if he doesn't like me?" You whispered worriedly, completely and utterly nervous about making a bad first impression.
The gravel crunched under your feet as you walked to Stiles' jeep with him and Scott, on your way to meet their friend, Derek Hale. A lot of mystery surrounded the secluded individual, and while he had been allegedly guilty for murder twice (and found innocent), you weren't worried about that, only the first impression you would leave on him.
Look, meeting new people is hard, and you've got to leave a positive, lasting impression. While others may find it to come naturally, you didn't. It's not like you'd go out of your way to be weird or anything of the sort, it just... happens. The only reason you're friends with Stiles and Scott is because they found you spilling your drink on them and yourself, and then proceeding to continuously apologising while whipping out napkins from nowhere and furiously wiping them down hilarious. You definitely left an impression.
"Don't worry so much, Y/n, I know he'll like you," Scott reassured as he pulled open the passenger door to the blue car and got in.
"Well, I've prepared myself for no embarrassing events to unfold," you declared, sliding into the back seat as Stiles started the car and drove off. "I don't have any food or drinks with me, I've checked that I've got nothing on my face, I- wait, do I have anything in my teeth?" You leaned forward and propped yourself against the front chairs, baring your teeth to the boys.
Scott turned his head, eyes scanning your teeth for any remaining food. "No, you're all good. You don't need to worry so much, Derek's a good guy."
Stiles scoffed, his eyes remaining on the road. "Yeah, if by good you mean glares at any living thing, obviously hates the world and looks like he wants to kill me every time I'm in the general vicinity, then yeah, he's a great person, a real stand-up guy."
You sat back in your seat, your head falling backwards as you sighed. "Now I really have to leave a good impression."
"Hope you're ready, 'cause we're at hells gates." Stiles slowed the Jeep to a halt and in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were standing in outside the metal front door.
"Deep breaths, Y/n. Introduce, shake hands, don't screw up. Easy." You hyped yourself up from behind Stiles and Scott as they finally opened the door.
The inside was very minimalistic. A couch, two tables and a spiralled staircase parallel to a large bed. A Large window illuminated the loft and a man, presumable Derek, who was hunched over the end table with papers littered atop it.
The boys walked inside and you trailed behind, repeating your instructions (Introduce, shake hands, don't screw up) like a mantra inside your head.
"Derek, this is the friend I was talking about," Scott started, gesturing to you even though Derek had yet to turn around.
"Hi, I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you." You stuck out your arm for a handshake as Derek turned around.
As soon as his eyes met yours, time seemed to stand still. They were a captivating hazel green, tender and comforting. It was the kind of earthy green that revived the grass after a cruel, unforgiving winter. Their lightness reminded you of springtime in a meadow, when the suns rays warmed the earth and shone through the leaves of the mighty oak tree.
His skin was slightly sun-kissed, allowing him to exude a warm and inviting aura. His mouth was ever so slightly parted as he stared wide-eyed and frozen still.
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Derek was flooded with millions of emotions as he gazed at the person before him; shock, adoration, confusion, longing. She was so gentle-looking, filled with kindness and innocence. Her eyes shone like the lustre of a pearl washed by the oceans calm currents, slowly drawing him further and further in. She wore the same confused expression he did and as her lips slowly parted all he could think about was how inviting they looked.
