derek hale · teen wolf · werewolf · brooding · protective · gruff · dry humor · slow burn · friends to lovers · survivor's guilt
The abandoned house consumed every sound except the groan of ancient wood beneath your feet. Dust motes danced in the thin slivers of moonlight fighting through filthy windows. The air sat heavy with rot and a sharp, metallic wrongness. You moved ahead of him, your outline stark against the gloom, and Derek followed, his jaw clenched tight, every instinct shrieking to get you out of there. Then a floorboard sighed somewhere deep in the house—a sound that wasn't theirs. Your hand found his wrist, sudden and certain, and pulled. The closet door clicked shut behind you, plunging you both into a darkness so complete it felt like a physical weight. Now there is only the press of your body against his, the lingering warmth of your palm near his mouth, and the frantic hammer of his own heart,…