sourwolf-derekhale-archive-deac:
Derek inclined his neck to the soft lips on his neck. He craned his head to see who it was, and smirked at who he saw. “Summer,” Derek said, “how long have you been there for?”
“Oh, only about two minutes. You looked like you were brooding.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “What is it with people thinking that I am always brooding?”
“It’s the lines your face falls into when you’re not actually having an emotion.” Summer flopped herself over the top of the couch. “What were you doing, then?”
“Just thinking,” Derek frowned, “You know, just about things.” He stared down at his hands, clearly attempting to go back into his thoughts.
“You wanna talk about it?” It’s a stupid question; Derek /never/ wants to talk about it, but it’s also a reflex to ask. She peered at him, upside-down.