Chapter 5

Derek stared deep into Stiles’ eyes and once in his life found it hard to breathe.

Stiles looked at Derek longingly, waiting for him to finish talking when a howl tore through the sky and Derek’s sharp teeth stuck out between his lips.

He stood up abruptly and walked to window.

Stiles sat up but was too weak to move. He stared at Derek who opened the shutters, looked outside and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Stiles heard Derek noisily run down the staircase and the front door slammed open. 

“What the hell are you doing with Stiles?”

Stiles immediately noticed the voice as Scott’s.

“He needs to go to the hospital, Derek. His father called me and I tracked his scent to your house. He needs to go to the emergency now. Move!”

“He’s fine,” Derek growled harshly. “His bones are just bruised and I’ve been treating his head wound for the past two days. Stiles is fine.”

Stiles stomach grumbled and he looked at the tray of food across the room. He stood up again and made it half way when the nausea from his head sent him falling onto the floor with a huge crash.

Stiles could hear hectic running up the stairs and Derek picked him up. Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around Derek’s waist. 

“He’s not okay!” Scott complained. “He needs to go to the emergency. My mom is working today and he’ll be in better hands than he is here.”

Derek laid Stiles on the bed but Stiles refused to let his grasp go.

Derek pushed against Stiles’ torso softly, staring intently into the brown eyes. When Stiles saw Derek’s expression, he whimpered and Derek twitched.

Stiles complained when Derek tore away his arms and hands, dragging Scott out of the bedroom and back downstairs. All Stiles could think of was the food on the table. 

“Stiles is fine---.”

“No he’s not!” Scott yelled. 

Derek sighed.

“Fine, after I’m done talking to him, I’ll drive him to the hospital myself.”

“His dad has been looking for him for the past two days. He’s got all the officers on patrol.”

“Lie,” Derek groaned, slamming the front door shut.

Derek appeared back into the room and placed the food tray on Stiles’ lap, sitting on the side of the bed. 

Stiles wasted no time eating the chicken noodle soup that Derek had made. During the process of eating, Derek watched intently as if Stiles was going to disapprove of his cooking. 

“It’s good,” Stiles complimented, easing Derek’s worry. 

“You must just be hungry,” Derek smiled.

Stiles was in shock. He had never seen Derek smile before. It was an amazing sight. Stiles continued to eat and Derek watched intrigued. When he was done, Derek took the tray away and came back with another full bowl. Stiles was still hungry and ate it without saying a word. 

“So---,” Derek broke the silence. He placed the empty tray on the ground and Stiles found the air to be uncomfortable, “did you try and kill yourself?” he asked, with no eye contact. 

“No.” Stiles said hard. “It was an accident.”

“That’s hard to believe when you’ve been moody and talking in your sleep for the past few days.”

“I haven’t been talking in my sleep . . . wait, how do you know I’m talking in my sleep?”

Suddenly Derek blushed, and Stiles thought it was sweet. They both looked away from each other. 

“I’ve been watching to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine . . .” Stiles said with no success.

Derek wasn’t buying it. 

“Something is wrong, Stiles and I want to know what it is.”

“Why?”

At this, Derek grew quiet. 

“Derek?” Stiles said. 

“Why are you in love with me?” Derek asked bluntly.

Stiles immediately grew sweaty and embarrassed. “I could hear you speaking to that---that thing I still don’t understand and you guys were discussing me. You love me?”

Now it was Stiles who suddenly grew silent.

Stiles thought about how quickly he wanted to disappear and how unlucky he was to not die in the accident. It would have saved him from this awkward moment that was eating his insides like piranhas. 

“I watched you for nights and all you and that voice talked about was you loving me,” Derek said. “Why are you in love with me?” he asked, again. “I’m overbearing, hurtful, angry all the time . . . what attracts you to me? The better we find what it is, the faster I can change it.”

There was an immediate pang to Stiles’ chest.

It was verified.

Even if Stiles was to agree, Derek would want nothing to do with him because he was ugly, just like his demon said all along.

Stiles couldn’t help but look away from Derek to hide his tears that began to fall down. He sniffed and felt Derek put a hand on his shoulder.

Stiles knocked it away. Stiles scooted for the edge of the bed, still avoiding Derek’s gaze and stood up, feeling nauseated immediately. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, aggressively. 

“Leaving,” Stiles hid the hurt in his voice. 

“Are you crazy? You won’t even make it through the door!” Derek stood up and blocked Stiles’ path, Stiles still unable to look into Derek’s eyes. 

“Get out of my way, Derek. I don’t care if I’m gonna die if I leave this place, I just want to go!”

Stiles really didn’t know how truly angry he was until that moment. He could feel the anger in his face raise the temperature in his cheeks, neck and chest. The throbbing in his forehead was uncontrollable, as well as the one in his heart. 

Derek pushed Stiles back towards the bed; Stiles using all the strength he had to pull away(which wasn’t much). Derek was so much stronger than Stiles, even out of his werewolf form.

Stiles’ tears fell fluidly and no longer was he hiding the amount of pain he felt. Derek was never going to love Stiles and although Stiles should be happy that he finally got an answer, it was definitely not the answer he so desperately wanted to hear. 

“Let me go!” Stiles cried. “Get out of my way!”

“NO!” Derek bellowed, his eyes turning red and his teeth sticking out of his mouth.

He was breathing heavily, and his voice echoed throughout the small room like an atomic bomb exploding, leaving Stiles scared and the air more dry.

Derek slammed Stiles against the wall, and Stiles head grew more nauseous. 

Stiles could feel Derek’s breath brush against his face and a growl ripping out of Derek’s chest. Before anyone said anything, Derek relaxed his breathing, but still kept a firm hand on the wall, blocking Stiles from moving. 

“No,” he said softly, but there was a scratchiness in his voice.

Stiles finally looked at Derek’s face and his eyes were closed but the same tears that were on Stiles’ face were on Derek’s.

Slowly, Stiles lifted his hand against Derek’s cheek, and slowly, Derek lifted his head, revealing two hurt, green eyes. 

“Stiles---,” his voice, sad. “Why do you love me?” 

Derek’s tear filled eyes were so intense for an answer, but Stiles suddenly shied away and took his hand from Derek’s cheek. Wanting an answer, Derek used his free hand to grab Stiles’ chin and bring his brown eyes back to his green. 

“I have to know.”

“Why?”

Stiles didn’t mean to sound harsh.

“You hate the fact that I’m in love with you? You’re repulsed that someone like me” --- he pointed to himself, trying to fight back his tears --- “someone so ugly,” he choked, “and---and completely psychotic loves everything about you that it hurts your rep just knowing that I want to be with you?”

“You’re not ugly,” Derek finally said. “I---I think you’re beautiful.”