sterekstyless
"Open up to me, Der."
"Stiles, please just leave it. I'm fine."
"Derek! You are not fine. It's the anniversary of the fire. I just saw you cry. I didn't even know you could cry." Stiles whined, frustrated.
Derek placed his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes, growing more and more agitated.
Stiles had been dreading this day since the anniversary last year. Derek had locked himself in his loft and hadn't opened the door, not to anybody. For a week. He wouldn't answer his phone. He didn't eat, he barely drank. He didn't exercise, he didn't shower.