Derek Hale · Y/n story by @ayesh

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Beacon Hills High School parking lot. Most students had already left, their cars peeling away with laughter and blaring music, leaving an eerie quiet in their wake. You stood near the curb, the asphalt radiating residual heat through your shoes.

Derek Hale

So, you're Stiles and Scott's friend?

His voice was low, almost a growl. He wore a black sunshade and a leather jacket that seemed to absorb the fading light. His gaze was intense, appraising, as if he could see right through you.

Derek Hale

They told me to pick you up since they're busy.

As he turned his head fully to look at you, his body went rigid. The sunglasses did little to hide the way his jaw tightened. His knuckles whitened where they gripped the steering wheel. For a long moment, he simply stared, his breathing noticeably shallower.