[Tate wants to believe that, so he does, hoping with a waning wish that Derek will find her and prove Tate wrong. That he'll tell him Violet's fine, she just... had to do something sudden or serious. He'd rather know that she's seeing his texts and ignoring them than not even seeing them at all. Anything. Fucking anything.
He steps into the bathroom, wet shoelaces dragging over the ground and looks back to Derek from where he stops at the sink. He's being told to relax, to ground himself, and nods his head vaguely before emptying his pockets. He puts his phone and wallet on the ledge, a set of keys next to that and then pauses while tugging the wet sleeve down his arm in preparation to take it off.]
Okay.
[Quietly he just agrees - blinking absently before turning his back to Derek, pulling his shirt up overhead and letting it fall to the floor. His skin's pale, more so from the cold and somber mood than anything. He runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at the shower before moving over to it - hand lightly on his belt.]
no subject
He steps into the bathroom, wet shoelaces dragging over the ground and looks back to Derek from where he stops at the sink. He's being told to relax, to ground himself, and nods his head vaguely before emptying his pockets. He puts his phone and wallet on the ledge, a set of keys next to that and then pauses while tugging the wet sleeve down his arm in preparation to take it off.]
Okay.
[Quietly he just agrees - blinking absently before turning his back to Derek, pulling his shirt up overhead and letting it fall to the floor. His skin's pale, more so from the cold and somber mood than anything. He runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at the shower before moving over to it - hand lightly on his belt.]
... Thanks. For - you know. This.