keeper (d. Hale)

cousin.

When Delilah awoke hours later she was disappointed to find the bed empty beside her. Reaching out she felt the sheets and found it to still be slighyly warm to the touch. She wasn't sure how much this could really tell her as Derek was like a space heater on a 24 hour basis so he could have been gone for a minute or up to an hour at this point.

Dragging herself out of bed, she grabbed one of Derek's shirts from the floor and slipped it over her head. His forest smell was always a welcome treat in the morning but right now she wanted to replace it with a steaming cup of coffee.

Stepping down the stairs, Delilah was on a caffine mission. She felt extra sluggish this morning and only blamed it on her wolf boy. Could she really call it blame if she was an active participant?

Taking one stair step at a time she was surprised to be greeted by the clanging of pots and pans in her kitchen, followed by a pungent burning smell. Rounding the corner, she watched from the entry way as Derek tried flipping French toast at the stove.

Dressed in a pair of low hanging sweat pants and sans a shirt, Delilah could have sworn he was going to battle in her kitchen. Mixing bowls laid about and cupboard drawers remained half open. She swore she could spot egg on the ceiling. 

Derek stood in front of his pan and scowled at the offending breakfast food. Delilah wondered if that was the face he really used for everybody but her. His jaw was tight and a crease was forming between his eyes. She wondered if it would instantly relax if she trailed her fingers across it.

Remaining silent, she crept across the kitchen and waited behind Derek. Unsure if he had picked up on her as she entered the room, she grazed his shoulder with her hand and laid a kiss at the middle of his triskelton tattoo.

Derek leaned into her touch and a slight smile played on his lips. The tightness from his jaw melted away and she was a little disappointed she couldn't test her theory.

"You're cooking on too high of a heat, Der." Delilah reached around him and adjusted his temperature.

Turning to look at her with a spatula in hand, he pointed the kitchen tool at Delilah in a accusatory way. "You were supposed to remain asleep so I could surprise you."

Moving closer to him she kissed the tip of his nose. "I don't like waking up with out you."

Derek smiled at his girl and turned back to his 3rd attempt on the stove, which seemed to be doing fine for now.

Delilah's hair was rumpled and her eyes were still barely open as she stood in front of him. The shirt she was wearing hit her about mid thigh and she swayed a little on the spot.  He was delighted that she distinctly smelled like him. It was a combination from their activity last night and her choice of wardrobe this morning.

Pulling Delilah close he captured her mouth in a toe curling morning kiss. "Why don't you go set the table so I don't burn our breakfast even more."

Delilah nodded as she felt like the tables were reversed this morning. She yawned as Derek lightly thrust a warm cup of coffee into her hands.

Sipping her newly acquired treasure, Derek lightly swatted her butt as he turned her towards the dining table.

Derek followed shortly with their breakfast and placed a plate of French toast and fruit in front of her. Her stomach growled and she dug into her sticky sweet stack.

"This is really good, Derek."

"Were you not expecting to be?" He joked as she used her fork to capture as much of the syrup he had poured on the plate as possible.

"Well, no, but I might have been a little concerned as I walked in on you this morning."

"It just took me a couple tries to get it right. Laura taught me when we lived in New York. It's been a while since I decided gave it a go again. Not many people I like to go out of the way to cook for."