He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep but the moon was still high and bright, inhaling the sweet stale smell of the rotten earth beneath him, stretching his palms towards the outside above his head, feeling the rough touch of leather under his outstretched fingers... er... wait. “Oh my GOD,” he practically screamed, wide-eyed, climbing up and away from the pair of feet that were right above his head. His stomach was twisted with terror. He should know better than to fall asleep in the woods with crazy shit running around like, like kanimas and ghouls and were-creatures and Derek Hales and... "Derek Hale," came the pathetic croak of his voice, twisted around that tight knot of his intestines. "Derek," he reiterated as he regained his big boy voice and managed to swallow the shiver starting deep in his shoulders. There was nothing meant to kill him, but the look on the man's tired face said he could be persuaded if he said the wrong thing. "Stiles," Derek admitted, holding up one of the books in his hand as if I needed the moonlight to read the title. "What are you doing?" he spoke again after a moment, raising his brow. Stiles fluttered, wringing his hands before opening his arms with a nervous laugh, finally breaking away from Derek and his little escape of terror, picking up a book to imitate the werewolf in front of him. him.“Reading. In the woods. At…” “Midnight.” "Exact. Midnight, and anyway..." he began, throwing the book into the depths of the book prison dug into the earth. "Midnight?" he finally spat, frowning deeply at Derek who stood with his eyes locked on Stiles's. “Midnight.” “My dad is going to kill me, I should have told him when I got back to Scott and I- ......middle of paper......it. He felt the weight of Derek's eyes on him once again, and he gasped when the wolf reached for something. Derek pulled out a lighter, grabbing Stiles' wrist. He stopped when Derek twisted his arm, opened his fingers and placed the square metal Zippo in his hand as Derek stared at him in the darkness. He stopped breathing, trying desperately to concentrate on what he meant. Oh. "You should probably do mine first, I guess Do you have any for…” He stopped, hissing. Get it together, Stiles hesitated before carefully taking the lighter back from his palm corner of a piece of paper..