Like it or Not

I would...

Stiles pulled a handful of files from his desk and slid them towards Elijah.

"There you go. All the models we work with."

"Thank you," Elijah grabbed the stack.

"I want those back by the end of the day," Stiles demanded, his arms crossing over his chest.

Elijah gave a half bow, "Of course," he smiled before turning away.

"Stiles," Derek called through the open doorway that separated their offices.

Stiles licked his lips nervously as he pushed his leather chair back.

Derek was sat at his desk, a large pile of outfit designs spread out across the top with his laptop open to their formatting templates.

"Yes?" Stiles asked.

"Close the door please," Derek asked, not looking up from two designs he was holding.

Stiles frowned but did as Derek asked. Derek never closed his door when he needed to speak to Stiles.

"Is something wrong?" Stiles hoped the nerves weren't evident in his tone.

Derek looked up and past Stiles to the now closed door of his office.

"Umm," Derek dropped his eyes back to the pages in his hand.

Stiles noted the uncertainty in Derek's posture. A shift of his shoulders, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, the way his brows were knit together.

"I..." Derek paused before holding up the pages so Stiles could see them. One was a lady in a long green linen dress with a thin brown belt worn low around the hips. The other was a long black and gold sequin dress with a black beaded fringe on the bottom.

"Should we go for the traditional flapper that everyone knows or the more common frock style house dress?"

Stiles raised a brow. He guessed Derek didn't have him close his door so he could ask him about designs, but Stiles was willing to play along.

"It depends on the point of the piece. As I believe our intent is to show how style has changed through the times, I would suggest more relatable outfits. You wouldn't compare a cocktail dress to a sundress, would you?"

Derek nodded, "Good point." He set the flapper dress design aside. He looked at the frock style design thoughtfully as silence fell over the pair.

It hung in the air for a long minute before Derek spoke up again.

"Unless we did multiple outfits per era, fancier go out style and casual every day. Hit all our audiences."

"You're the boss," Stiles shrugged, his arms clasping behind him.

"You're usually more opinionated than that," Derek looked up from under furrowed brows.

"And you don't usually close your door to talk about dress designs," Stiles fought to keep the impatience, he often held for Derek, out of his tone.

Derek sighed sliding both designs aside. His hands clasping on his desk.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Stiles frowned. He had a hard time reading Derek's expression. He was purposefully keeping his emotions on lock.

Derek's brows rose.

"Cause if this is about in the hall earlier, I thought that was the play. I didn't mean to-" Stiles cut off as Derek held up a hand.

"Are you...trying to convince me not to break up with you?" Derek asked.

Stiles lifted a finger and opened his mouth to deny the accusation but paused. His eyes narrowed as he realized that yeah, that's exactly what he was doing.