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Aug. 15th, 2017 01:10 pmI have no idea why I put myself through the torture of going on runs with Derek Hale.
Actually, I do, but it's hard to remember the reasons right now. I was relieved when Derek and Barry showed back up from their weird Darrow-related absence, and not only because it eased the worried pinch in Bittle's brow when his friends showed back up . Derek doesn't say much about where he was, but he does say that he and Barry were together, so I suppose that's a good thing. They didn't have to miss each other.
Derek seems to fall back into his routines easily enough, and it isn't long before his triumphant return that he's swinging by to pick me up for runs. I had gotten out of shape (for me) in the time he was gone, and it reminds me why I subject myself to trying to keep up with a werewolf.
He literally has supernatural endurance, running through the woods without so much as a hitch in his breath, and it pulls at my competitive nature. I could never win when it comes to him, and he doesn't rub the fact in my face. He simply pushes me to be better, to try harder, simply by allowing me to run alongside him. He seems to know that it helps me, but doesn't say anything about it. We seem to understand each other in that way.
It's after such a run in the swampy summer heat that I break off from Derek and jog back home. My shirt is tucked into the waistband of my small running shorts, because it's far too hot to cover more skin than absolutely necessary. Every bit of my skin is glistening with sweat and I look over myself in the elevator to check for burns. I smell like the fake chemical coconut of too much sunscreen, but it seems to have done its job. I'm grateful for it, especially after a long morning of watching Derek's sunburns heal themselves before they have a chance to turn his golden skin anything more than slightly pink.
I wouldn't want it for myself but damn, it must be nice to be a werewolf.
There's the ubiquitous scent of baked goods coming from our front door, and I smile to myself as I let myself into the apartment. Bits is distracted at the oven, and I run my fingers through my sweat damp hair as I reach gratefully for the bottle of water he must have set out for me.
He hasn't noticed me yet so I take my time to watch his hips sway to the music. Blood is still pumping through me but at the sight of his ass and thighs it all seems to rush downward. "Hey, Bits."
Actually, I do, but it's hard to remember the reasons right now. I was relieved when Derek and Barry showed back up from their weird Darrow-related absence, and not only because it eased the worried pinch in Bittle's brow when his friends showed back up . Derek doesn't say much about where he was, but he does say that he and Barry were together, so I suppose that's a good thing. They didn't have to miss each other.
Derek seems to fall back into his routines easily enough, and it isn't long before his triumphant return that he's swinging by to pick me up for runs. I had gotten out of shape (for me) in the time he was gone, and it reminds me why I subject myself to trying to keep up with a werewolf.
He literally has supernatural endurance, running through the woods without so much as a hitch in his breath, and it pulls at my competitive nature. I could never win when it comes to him, and he doesn't rub the fact in my face. He simply pushes me to be better, to try harder, simply by allowing me to run alongside him. He seems to know that it helps me, but doesn't say anything about it. We seem to understand each other in that way.
It's after such a run in the swampy summer heat that I break off from Derek and jog back home. My shirt is tucked into the waistband of my small running shorts, because it's far too hot to cover more skin than absolutely necessary. Every bit of my skin is glistening with sweat and I look over myself in the elevator to check for burns. I smell like the fake chemical coconut of too much sunscreen, but it seems to have done its job. I'm grateful for it, especially after a long morning of watching Derek's sunburns heal themselves before they have a chance to turn his golden skin anything more than slightly pink.
I wouldn't want it for myself but damn, it must be nice to be a werewolf.
There's the ubiquitous scent of baked goods coming from our front door, and I smile to myself as I let myself into the apartment. Bits is distracted at the oven, and I run my fingers through my sweat damp hair as I reach gratefully for the bottle of water he must have set out for me.
He hasn't noticed me yet so I take my time to watch his hips sway to the music. Blood is still pumping through me but at the sight of his ass and thighs it all seems to rush downward. "Hey, Bits."
