[Tate frowns, just faintly, because he doesn't like the concept of invading on - Stiles and Derek's life. Which is what this feels like still, even if he's been welcomed repeatedly and directly. He doesn't reply because he doesn't know how to, at first. He just makes a gesture, half-shrug and half something else, that gives a bit of hope to the idea of lingering around. He'd like nothing more than to curl up right now and sleep, in all honesty.
He looks up at Derek and his eyes might say it all - how he's on the cusp of agreeing, how he would if he's been told to do something, how the hesitance and fog is just there out of a general slathering of apathy that's eating him from the inside out to cover out the burned out holes in his chest from feeling too much.]
no subject
He looks up at Derek and his eyes might say it all - how he's on the cusp of agreeing, how he would if he's been told to do something, how the hesitance and fog is just there out of a general slathering of apathy that's eating him from the inside out to cover out the burned out holes in his chest from feeling too much.]
Pizza's fine. I'll eat pizza.