[Nonanswer, Tate just - lets that slide with a swipe of his tongue along the backs of his teeth, trying not to let something so insignificant have any weight on him. But the little nosy part of him inside just wants to know the answer anyway, because he wants to know everything about Derek - about Stiles - about these people that are in his life. He wants to know for the sake of knowing and yet he can't. His fingers stop tracing just for a beat, but then they resume. Down his arm to his wrist, then back up to his bicep. Rinse, repeat.

Tate has a habit of not thinking things through and he's guilty of that, so he's guilty of being about fifty percent the cause of this misunderstanding if not a slight bit more. But Derek's reaction is always to snap like a dog disturbed from a nap - Tate can lay the blame on him but by now he should know kinder ways of rousing him.]

No. I mean, I think you were stupid overreacting but... I could have told you she was a feral bitch. And maybe also a cat.