[Derek's treating him like he's fragile, something that can be scared away and he wants to scoff at that. But he's too distracted in watching Derek's face, too caught up in the soft inhale that happens when red eyes glow his way. Like a flood of blood down a flight of stairs or dotting a porcelain sink, the red strikes a chord in the center of Tate's chest. Familiar, inviting, enchanting. He stares, open mouthed, and gravitates a little bit closer. He stops when he sees the teeth.
Gnashing teeth, sharp and villainous. But he's grown up around Thaddeus, learned not to be afraid of things that can't - or shouldn't - hurt him. He closes his mouth, swallowing hard, before he's lifting his other hand. It doesn't touch Derek's face, it falls short, but he stares into the red like its the sun and he wants to blind himself.]
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Gnashing teeth, sharp and villainous. But he's grown up around Thaddeus, learned not to be afraid of things that can't - or shouldn't - hurt him. He closes his mouth, swallowing hard, before he's lifting his other hand. It doesn't touch Derek's face, it falls short, but he stares into the red like its the sun and he wants to blind himself.]
You don't scare me.