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Bring your love baby, I can bring my shame
Derek flopped on his bed like a penguin, watching me my mouth fell open at the massive collection of music. Every wall of his blue room was covered in book shelves, only they were filled to the brim with Vinyl records and CDs. A chuckle left his mouth as he rested his head on top of his arms, laying on his stomach like Stiles usually did while roasting my outfits. "Hot right?"
I turned my head to face him, snapping out of my trance. I was in awe of his room, it was nothing like what I expected. I imagined it would be filled with posters of cars and girls in bikinis and filled with weights like any proper jock would. Instead it was brimming with records, a shinny black vinyl player and a pair of speakers that were half my size that laid near his flat screen tv. In the corner of his room was a sleek all black electric guitar and a small amplifier. "Huh?" I stuttered stupidly, my hair flopping over my eyes. I was completely lost. What was hot? The guitar? The records? Him? All of the above?
"First addition Guns N Roses album." He nodded at a pristine album framed beautifully on the wall. I nodded dumbfounded. Yeah it was hot. Under normal circumstances I would have A LOT to say about the music in front of me but as of lately I didn't have much to say about anything. The only reason I even came here in the first place was to see if maybe, spending time with Peter (who was very hot in a very creepy way) would make me feel something. The only time I felt anything was when Derek decided to barge in, and even now I couldn't tell what he was making me feel. Nerves? Yes. Fear? A lot of it. But also something else that I couldn't name. No, you idiot not love or even lust for that matter, something deeper. Something more desperate that I perviously had never felt for him or anyone else for that matter.
"Hey, are you okay?" He whispered softly, by my side, his hand placing itself comfortingly on my shoulder. How did he even get up that fast, that quietly? I jumped a little, still weary of the "vision" I had of Derek earlier today. If you can even call it that, noticing that I had begun to shake. Dude I'm not Skippy John Jones, I shouldn't be shaking.
"I-I—yeah." I finally choked the words out. Stepping away from him, my head was blurrier than the board at school and his cologne was not helping me gather any thoughts. Other than he smelled expensive and arrogant.
"Claudia, what happened that night?" He asked me bluntly, while his tone wasn't menacing it also didn't leave any room fore discussion. It wasn't a question. It was a command, and I couldn't stop myself from answering. His—his presence made me do so involuntarily.
I sighed running a hand through my hair and turning away from Derek, only for him to shoot his hand out stopping me. Trapping me between a wall and his toned arm, he was watching me expectantly. Eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Come on Ghost Rider." He sent me a lopsided smirk and I felt my breath clash with his due to how close he decided to stand. Seriously his room is bigger than Noah's kitchen, there was no need for this.
