[ Derek smiles, wry and lightly sarcastic. For a second, he's fine with just sitting here, but he pulls his hands back eventually, taking a long, steadying breath. Keep building a pack, keep making amends, focus on how good things are going to be come July. That's all he's gotta do. Things are gonna be okay. ]
Don't let me be wrong about you.
[ He's quiet, when he says this, maybe a little cautious, but - certainly not unkind. There's no way he's wrong about Tate.
There are other things he wanted to cover, but he's burning himself out on shovelling all this serious shit down Tate's throat, and the thought of diving too deep into the rest of his family is - rough. Derek kicks his heel in the dirt, looks at Tate, then to the woods around them, going out of his way to adopt a lighter posture, a more casual tone of voice. It's forced, but. Light and casual is always forced, with Derek. ]
Pick a spot. [ He gestures, vaguely, at the woods around them. ] If we're gonna build you a treehouse, may as well start planning.
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Don't let me be wrong about you.
[ He's quiet, when he says this, maybe a little cautious, but - certainly not unkind. There's no way he's wrong about Tate.
There are other things he wanted to cover, but he's burning himself out on shovelling all this serious shit down Tate's throat, and the thought of diving too deep into the rest of his family is - rough. Derek kicks his heel in the dirt, looks at Tate, then to the woods around them, going out of his way to adopt a lighter posture, a more casual tone of voice. It's forced, but. Light and casual is always forced, with Derek. ]
Pick a spot. [ He gestures, vaguely, at the woods around them. ] If we're gonna build you a treehouse, may as well start planning.