Staring contest with the cat. Wasn't looking at my phone. Sorry.
[ they're having a very serious conversation that derek needs to get back to, but the cat's creeping closer again and derek sullenly puts his fork down like one of the more asshole-ish characters in matilda. she stops at the noise, again, and he feels himself getting annoyed. again.
maybe she's hungry. that's annoying, too, because it's not his job to fucking feed her. stiles clearly spoiled her too much in the down. he breaks off a piece of fish, holds out his hand for her to take it, and she just fucking bolts. just hightails it out of there, her claws skidding over themselves in fear and leaving scratch marks in the hardwood. derek stares after her, then puts the bit of fish in his mouth. ]
She doesn't like me. Seriously. She's liking me less and less. Honestly surprised she hasn't tried to fucking kill me yet. Most cats do. Give me a reason not to turn her into a lasagne.
[ whatever. wow, okay, this is wildly inappropriate, and derek's at least self-aware enough to realize that. he cleans his hands off on his shirt, feels even less hungry than before, and leans back against the bottom of the couch while he types. he hears the cat creeping around again and fucking pointedly chooses not to care. ]
Anyway. A vampire couldn't fucking kill me. Half of them are skinny little twinks who cry about their feelings. They're like Scott, but somehow even more hairless. What are they going to do? Yell at me about their girlfriends to death? I'm not afraid of them. I'm not afraid of anyone.
Whatever. Asking him about Rosalind is a good idea. Think you'd be able to tell if he was lying?
no subject
Sorry.
[ they're having a very serious conversation that derek needs to get back to, but the cat's creeping closer again and derek sullenly puts his fork down like one of the more asshole-ish characters in matilda. she stops at the noise, again, and he feels himself getting annoyed. again.
maybe she's hungry. that's annoying, too, because it's not his job to fucking feed her. stiles clearly spoiled her too much in the down. he breaks off a piece of fish, holds out his hand for her to take it, and she just fucking bolts. just hightails it out of there, her claws skidding over themselves in fear and leaving scratch marks in the hardwood. derek stares after her, then puts the bit of fish in his mouth. ]
She doesn't like me. Seriously. She's liking me less and less.
Honestly surprised she hasn't tried to fucking kill me yet. Most cats do.
Give me a reason not to turn her into a lasagne.
[ whatever. wow, okay, this is wildly inappropriate, and derek's at least self-aware enough to realize that. he cleans his hands off on his shirt, feels even less hungry than before, and leans back against the bottom of the couch while he types. he hears the cat creeping around again and fucking pointedly chooses not to care. ]
Anyway.
A vampire couldn't fucking kill me. Half of them are skinny little twinks who cry about their feelings. They're like Scott, but somehow even more hairless.
What are they going to do? Yell at me about their girlfriends to death?
I'm not afraid of them. I'm not afraid of anyone.
Whatever.
Asking him about Rosalind is a good idea.
Think you'd be able to tell if he was lying?