Yeah. I'm-- all that shit I said after you told me you had a contract, that was just-- fear. I didn't...
[ ... mean it. He's already apologized for this. Harping on the same shit, apologizing again and again, all that does is bring up old wounds to poke around in. He's gotta be a fucking adult. Bottle his feelings. That's what he's used to, by now. Just -
It'd be easier if he could rely on his anger, like he used to. Sometimes. Months of being with Stiles has really started to soften him up.
Tate asks how they're going to get down, and Derek... shrugs. He takes this as a dismissal and figures their time here's nearly up - unless Derek can figure out how to guilt him into staying by talking about the tree house, or something. He stands, a little rickety, hooking one arm around the trunk and offering Tate the other. ]
no subject
[ ... mean it. He's already apologized for this. Harping on the same shit, apologizing again and again, all that does is bring up old wounds to poke around in. He's gotta be a fucking adult. Bottle his feelings. That's what he's used to, by now. Just -
It'd be easier if he could rely on his anger, like he used to. Sometimes. Months of being with Stiles has really started to soften him up.
Tate asks how they're going to get down, and Derek... shrugs. He takes this as a dismissal and figures their time here's nearly up - unless Derek can figure out how to guilt him into staying by talking about the tree house, or something. He stands, a little rickety, hooking one arm around the trunk and offering Tate the other. ]
C'mon. I'll help you up.