FIGHT ME.

Derek full on ran back to the coffee shop. He threw open the door, but it was too late. Stiles was standing next to the table, bag situated on a chair, one of the books open in his hands. Derek could have died. “Those aren’t- they- I’m not-” Derek couldn’t seem to find the right words.

Stiles glanced over to Derek who could only stare from the doorway. “Is… this for me?” he asked.

Derek thought it would be best at this point to keep his mouth shut. So he just stood in the doorway, mentally freaking out, though you wouldn’t guess it if you saw his face.

Stiles looked back at the bag, then to Derek, then at the book in his hands. Something seemed to click. A soft smile began to form on his lips. “Thanks, Mr. Hale,” Stiles lit up. He closed the book, running his thumb over the various tags sticking out. “I love it. I’ll try some of these out tomorrow.”

[internally screaming] (fic link)