Stiles: “Sooooo… the weather is… nice.”
Derek: “…” *internally screaming*
Welp. Giving up on this one. It’s been sitting in my drafts folder for almost a month and I’m pretty sure that I won’t miraculously decide to properly finish it.
This is basically just a scribble of the way I like to think at Derek, being so emotionally constipated, that he wouldn’t even be able to hold hands with Stiles, while they’re out for a walk, all alone, trough the Beacon Hills forest.