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In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk. (Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly five hundred handwritten steps.)
Bookmarked by bookwyrm7
20 Mar 2019
Silence for another second; then there's a soft rustle, and Derek's jumping to the ground from fifteen feet and landing in a crouch. Stiles rolls his eyes, because Derek's showing off, and Derek smirks, because he's an asshole.
There are truths even Stiles can't lie his way around.
"Your reasons for edge-of-the-property skulking, obviously." Stiles narrows his eyes when Derek raises his eyebrows and says, "Oh, do not even. This is totally skulking. You are absolutely a skulker. The word skulk was invented specifically for you, and has been waiting all its skulky little life for you to show up and make it relevant."
Derek's smirk is a thing to behold; a little darkly, Stiles wishes someone else were beholding it. It's kind of hard to ignore. "'All its skulky little life’?"
"Everything about this conversation is the worst part of this conversation," Derek says with a sigh.
I don't want him to think I don't value the pack, not when the truth is that I value you so much that I can barely stand it some days. I told him I'd get back to him. I don't even know why I'm telling you, except that it is so immensely bizarre to me that I'm able to that it almost has novelty value. Who knows.