white lies, sterek au [TEEN WOLF, DISCONTINUED]

• Chapter Eleven •

>what about love,
what about trust,
what about us<
|What About Us, P!NK|

{One week later}

Derek

I got up from the wet grass in front of my house, it was raining today, but I didn't seem to care enough to get inside. Stiles isn't here yet, it's been one fucking week and he hasn't returned, nor did he bother to send a message. I wiped the dirt of my pants, only to be met with the rain again, watering my clothes. I sighed and looked up, admiring the dark grey clouds that covered the whole of the sky. Drops of water ran down my face and I closed my eyes in displeasure.

Letting out a heavy breath, I decided to head inside because the rain wasn't fixing my mood at all. I got rid of my shirt, jeans and pair of boots and headed straight to the shower. This time though, I decided to go to Stiles' bathroom, and not mine. It reeked of his scent, and since he wasn't here at the moment, this is all I ever needed. I inhaled deeply, letting every hint of his smell come through my nostrils. My eyes almost watered immediately, but since I was too tired to even cry about him, I stopped the tears before they could roll down. The toothpaste reminded me of him, his little comb reminded me of him, even the big poster he had put on the wall, one of Wolverine, because for some reason he had said that he reminded him of me. I scoffed at the thought of him and continued on with getting in the shower. I opened his shampoo, honey and coconut, which was a really strange smell, yet suited him the most. He used to smell like flowers, and Stiles was indeed a flower child, begging to be freed from the big bad wolf's hands. I squirted some out and rubbed my skalp with rythmic moves, stopping now and then to enjoy my lover's oh-so-past smell.

After getting out, I tried finding some of his clothes, so I could wear them in this cold and rainy day that reminded me of my soul, but nothing seemed to fit. Then I remembered the day when he tossed me one of his shirts and I kept saying that none of them fit. Scoffing again, for probably the fifth time today, I went to his room and sat by the door. Observing every little detail in there, and pointing out places where Stiles and I had beautiful memories, I walked inside with slow and steady steps. Baby steps, Der, baby steps.

His bed was still unfixed from the day he left, he didn't even bother to pull the covers up and make it good-looking. I didn't care either to fix it, if he cared, he would come and make it up himself.

The desk was covered in a thin layer of dust, reasonable since it hadn't been cleaned properly for quite a time. His handwritten college applications were sprawled all over the place, making the room even more untidy.

The carpet on the floor was dirty, hints of mud here and there were making their appearance through the red fabric. I had told him to clean it up, two days before he left. He never did it.

If he cared enough he would've fix his bed. If he cared enough he would've sent his college applications. If he cared enough he would've cleaned the carpet, as I told him to.

If he cared, he would have stayed.

I sat by the window, my gaze getting lost in the busy roads of Beacon Hills. Not really busy, but they were, for Beacon Hills at least. If we lived in another time, the Sheriff's patrol car would probably pass by the neighbourhood, for the morning check-up. Stiles would be sleeping, snorting a bit maybe because he usually snorts in the mornings, after the sun rises. I would be out for my run, tracking down a squirrel or some other nature's piece of shit.