The Little Things

by ThestralSeeker17

Ever since their first meeting, he had paid attention to the little things. Unintentionally, his brown eyes followed her, noticing her little quirks, catching the nuances in her behaviors, and picking up on her preferences and dislikes.

Author's Note (Part 1):

This is a long author's note, so if you'd like to skip over it, feel free to. For those who would like to read it, here it goes:

Hello there! It's been a long time since I've written anything remotely fanfic-related, but I thought I'd give this a shot. I haven't written for the Life with Derek fandom before, so this is a new experience for me. Go easy on me, please?

In the last few weeks, while on break between grad school terms, I fell deeply in love with the Derek/Casey pairing. I grew up watching Life with Derek, but as an elementary school kid at the time, I guess I didn't see the chemistry between the two characters (hey, I was a little slow when it came to the romance department). As a woman in her mid-twenties now, I simply can't ignore their explosive, undeniable chemistry. So, I decided to do something about it, and thus, The Little Things was born. I chose to write in Derek's perspective, which was a bit of a challenge, as Casey and I have more personality characteristics in common. However, I've been known to pine a time or two, so I felt comfortable writing a version of Pining!Derek.

Many things, including specific TV show episodes, Dasey videos on YouTube, songs, and a movie, helped to inspire this story. I believe in giving credit where credit is due, so down below, you'll find a list of things that motivated me during the writing process. I borrowed some lines here and there; fans of Win a Date with Tad Hamilton! and How I Met Your Mother should be able to recognize which lines are directly from those sources. The biggest influences were Episode 2, Season 5 of How I Met Your Mother and, of course, the longing looks that Derek gives Casey in almost every episode of LwD (seriously, could he be any more obvious?).

Inspiration:
TV show – How I Met Your Mother (Season 5, Episode 2; Season 6, Episode 15; Season 7, Episode 1; Season 8, Episode 24)

Movie - Win a Date with Tad Hamilton!

Dasey YouTube Videos – "Casey has stolen Derek's heart" (Creator: bxcutie89); "Derek & Casey: Mess is Mine" (Creator: MsLyraGW); "derek + casey: wait for fate" (Creator: Danielle W.); "she is the words that i can't find: derek/casey [life with derek]" (Creator: akapotatogirl); "did you know that she has 6 smiles? derek/truman/casey" (Creator: thiiamia)

Music – "You and Me" (Lifehouse); "Everything" (Lifehouse); "If Eyes Could Speak" (Devon Werkheiser); "Stolen – Slow Version" (Dashboard Confessional); "Patience" (Hollow Coves); "Ocean Eyes" (original by Billie Eilish, but I listened to Chris Kläfford's cover); "She (for Liz)" (Parachute)

Without further ado, please enjoy!

---

The Little Things

"Shouldn't we hold out for the person who doesn't just tolerate our little quirks, but actually kind of likes them?" –Ted Mosby, How I Met Your Mother, Season 5, Episode 2: "Double Date"

---

There were few absolute truths in the world, but among them were three prominent ones: death, taxes, and the fact that Derek Venturi was an oblivious man.

Derek didn't like to admit it, but he had to agree to some extent – he was oblivious when it came to most things, but never when something involved Casey. No, when it came to his stepsister, he knew too much – far more than he ever wanted or bargained for.

Ever since their first meeting, he had paid attention to the little things. Unintentionally, his brown eyes followed her, noticing her little quirks, catching the nuances in her behaviors, and picking up on her preferences and dislikes.

Oh, he knew he was in deep trouble from the second that his eyes landed on her. He had desperately tried to stop looking from that moment onward, but for the life of him, he couldn't. No matter what distractions he pursued, she kept drawing him in, like a siren luring in a sailor. Really, it wasn't his fault that she was so astonishingly magnetic.

It had taken him years to come to terms with how he felt. After all, Derek Venturi did not do feelings of any kind. For a time, he believed he was incapable experiencing them because he didn't think about them, nor did he ever talk about them. He couldn't exactly pinpoint when, but somewhere along the line, those pesky feelings eventually tore through his defenses and walls. It was ridiculous, really, how far gone he was now.

Everything Casey did, whether she realized it or not, drove him certifiably insane – with annoyance, frustration, weariness, want, desire, and longing. He hated that she had so much power over him, almost as much as he loved it. Being at constant war with his feelings was downright exhausting. No wonder he put off facing them for so long. If his high school self had known the depth of his feelings, that Derek would have likely checked himself into a mental institution.

Is this madness called love?

He often tossed that question around, but never dared to speak of it out loud. It was kept safely within the confines of his mind, buried in a drawer where he shoved all his Casey-related thoughts.

And boy, was that drawer full of information.

As arrogant as it sounded, he was confident that he could name everything that went amiss by nearly everyone, including her own mother and sister. Hell, he figured he could write a whole damned encyclopedia about Casey.

Granted, he felt like he had an advantage, considering he interacted with her more than anyone else at the moment. Even though he saw her everyday while they lived under the same roof and attended the same high school in London, he saw her even more now that they were in their third year at Queen's University.

The first year had been spent apart – he in his co-ed dormitory and she in her all-girls residence hall. They had separate friends, extra-curriculars, and classes. He'd occasionally see her in the Quad, nod at her acknowledgement, and be on his way. It was only during their holiday breaks, when they traveled back to London, that they spent a significant amount of time together.

Years two and three brought on a new set of challenges as they (begrudgingly) agreed to live together in an off-campus apartment to ease the financial burden on George and Nora. And during that window of time, he had kept his promise – they were, for all intents and purposes, the best of friends.

It was shocking at first, transitioning from their vicious fights that involved shoes being thrown (Casey had surprisingly good aim) and threats of never speaking to one another (that had been Derek's idea) to quiet, comfortable nights with take-out, beers, and movies. Oh, they still pushed one another's buttons and got under each other's skin – that was never going to change, no matter how close they became – but rather than stay angry, they had long discussions and worked through their issues. Well, all but one significant issue.

Derek still couldn't communicate how he felt about her. He had never been good at declaring his feelings to anyone, let alone her. Even if he had some clue of how to go about it, his words and actions would be wholly inadequate. Knowing Casey, she'd want three things: 1) a backdrop with romantic lighting, 2) flowers (not red roses – even though she claimed those were her favorite, he knew better; she preferred wild and colorful daisies), and 3) some sappy, cliché profession of his undying love.

The thought of doing any of those romantic and swoon-worthy things made Derek gag.

So, he did what any rational person in his position would do – he pushed down his feelings and played the part of her best friend and protective stepbrother. Because that's what he was supposed to do. And it was working, for the most part. Even though it was torture to pretend that he thought of her in a strictly platonic way, she seemed completely comfortable with their relationship. He knew that if he said one word about his feelings, he would lose her. Selfishly, that was something he could never do to himself.

Losing her would be like losing the ability to breathe.

Did he mention how far gone he was?

Deep down, he knew that no one could hold a candle to Casey. If he were honest, of the many girls he had dated, Sally had come the closest. Of course, that relationship was long gone, and he had no intention or desire to dwell on it. He always did long for women he could never really have.

What Derek wants, Derek gets.

He wished he had never uttered those words – that stupid phrase taunted him every day of his life. Just because he wanted Casey didn't mean he could have her. This wasn't one of her nonsensical, trashy romance novels that she kept hidden in a box beneath her bed.

This was reality – harsh, bitter, and cruel. Reality reminded him that she was never going to the person he could spend his life with. Therefore, he owed it to himself to look for someone who could be that person.

That was why he stood in front of his bedroom mirror, assessing his look for his first date with Silvia.

He had met her in one of his film classes at the start of the fall semester. With a hesitant smile and a softly spoken question ("Is this seat open?"), she had captured his interest. After that first exchange, they began a steady friendship, tinged with playful flirting. Not only was she easy on the eyes, but she was also intelligent, funny, down to earth, and just as passionate about film-making as he was.

Without really trying, she checked off so many of things he was looking for. And yes, Derek actively kept a list of qualities he wanted in a partner. After his first year of university, full of bad decisions and reckless behavior, he decided he was ready for the real thing.

The real thing could have very well been with Silvia. In any case, he was determined to find out. After a few months of indecision, he finally bucked up enough courage to ask her out on a proper date. And thankfully, she said yes.

A quiet knock on his door interrupted his train of thought.

Before he could open his mouth to respond, the doorknob twisted. Casey poked her head in, eyes widening at the sight.

"Wow, you clean up well," she whistled in awe, clearly impressed.

"Thanks," Derek chuckled, motioning for her to come inside.

How times had changed – old Derek would have balked at the idea of inviting her into his room. Of course, that had never deterred her in the past. She always barged in, whether he welcomed her or not.

She crossed the threshold, but remained a few meters from where he stood, leaning against his desk.

"Excited for your date?" she wondered, tilting her head to the side, studying him.

"Yeah, I am." He smiled nervously, smoothing down his light grey shirt. "Do I look okay?"

A soft look crossed Casey's face – one that made his heartbeat increase ten-fold. In that moment, he knew he would do anything for her, as long as she looked at him that way forever.

Get a hold of yourself, he internally scolded. Now is not the time.

"You look great, Der," she answered honestly before her lips quirked into a teasing grin. "You must be really serious about her if you're voluntarily wearing a button-down and a tie."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, Silvia's a prim and proper girl, so I thought I'd try to make a good impression."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "Prim and proper? Not your usual type, Venturi."

He shrugged. She was right, of course. His past-self had chased after women in mini-skirts, mid-drift exposing tops, and fuck-me heels – ones that were a dime a dozen, hanging around at every college party. But, he was done with that.

"Look, my taste in women has changed, all right? It's been a couple of years since my streak of sleeping around, Case. Give me some credit," he scoffed.

That soft look returned. "You've grown a lot, Derek," she agreed, stepping closer. "As much as it pains me to say this, any girl would be lucky to have you."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "You're just saying that."

She shook her head. "No, I mean it," she murmured, blue eyes boring into his.

For a second, Derek swore that she glanced at his lips. Before he could decipher what just happened, Casey's gaze flickered to his tie.

"That's all wrong," she pointed out, launching herself into his personal space and grabbing a hold of the cloth.

He swallowed, catching a whiff of her apple and jasmine shampoo. That scent was seared into his brain; he could never smell it and not think of her. His cheeks suddenly felt very flushed; her proximity was not helping matters.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, though his voice came out hoarser than he intended. He remained perfectly still as her fingers unknotted his royal blue tie.

"I, in good conscious, cannot let you take a girl on a date with an unproperly knotted tie," she laughed, the sound warm and comforting. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, she gave him a sharp look. "Don't worry, I'm not going to mess this up or strangle you. I used to do this for my dad, from time to time."

I know that, he almost said out loud. It was one of the first things he discovered about her – she knew how to handle menswear, having had to help dress Dennis near the end of his marriage to Nora. But, if Derek let it slip that he knew that about her, she'd questioned why and he was not about to get into any of that.

"Fine," he muttered, knowing it was useless to argue with her about this. Instead, he attempted to train his eyes on anything but her. That effort, as usual, was wasted.

He gave in, eyes tracing her forehead and eyebrows, both wrinkled in concentration. Skillfully, her graceful fingers – complete with cherry red nail polish – looped the material back around his neck. She worked silently, while his gaze traveled over to her shoulder length hair. He noticed that she had recently retouched the blonde highlights. After some debating, she decided to keep her hairstyle from the summer they spent together at her grandmother's lodge, just as he had, with his darker, slightly shorter, and curlier locks.

Even though he tried to fight it, his eyes moved down to her bottom lip, which she was unconsciously biting. That was a habit of hers, one that he found particularly distracting and a bit too arousing. Of course, his favorite part of her were her expressive blue eyes. Those eyes would be the death of him someday, he was sure of it. Not even upon a threat of death would he admit that he frequently compared her eyes to the ocean – they were just as deep, mesmerizing, and calming. On the flip side, they could also swirl like a volatile storm. He adored the way they sparkled when she was delighted or burned with ire when she was irritated with him.

"All done," she announced a moment later, taking a step back to admire her handiwork. "Now you look dashing."

Derek swiveled around to examine his reflection, noticing that his tie did, in fact, look much better.

Smirking, he joked, "Look at you, putting your Keener abilities to good use."

She used both hands to gently shove him, laughing. "Shut up, Der-ek."

He bit back the smile that threatened to take over his face. Next to her laugh, her enunciation of his name was the most appealing sound in the world.

Inching closer, he leaned his face near hers.

"You're gonna have to make me, Princess," he muttered, quirking his right eyebrow in a challenge.

They stared each other down. Oh, her blue eyes burned, while a smile that Derek rarely saw graced her lips. He knew her smiles – all six of them – but this one…it was different. When he least expected it, it appeared for briefest of seconds before disappearing. He could never figure out what that smile meant, even though he'd spent enough time trying to analyze it (damn her Keener influence on him – he never usually analyzed anything).

Derek fully expected Casey to open her mouth and fire back at him, but instead, she rolled her eyes, the action dissipating the palpable tension between them.

Derek, on the other hand, was left nearly breathless in its wake.

"Whatever," Casey mumbled, moving away from him again. She chose to remain his bedroom, plopping herself onto his desk, legs dangling over the edge. "This is the girl from your Noir Film class, right? The one who sometimes walks with you when you're in the Quad?"

He nodded, subconsciously running his sweaty palms on his slacks. Even thinking about the date was making him jittery.

"So, what do you have planned for tonight?" she asked, curiosity in her voice.

With all the nonchalance he could muster, he replied, "Dinner and then we're gonna catch an indie film at one of the smaller theaters in town."

She smiled softly. "That sounds nice. Which restaurant?"

"The new seafood one that's on the lakefront. It opened about a month ago, and so far, it's gotten good reviews."

Her eyebrows lifted at his answer. "I'm surprised you're not going to a steakhouse. You prefer steak over anything else, especially seafood."

"She's a pescatarian," he explained before narrowing his eyes at her. "I do like some seafood, you know."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Yeah, she's definitely not your usual type. And you like shellfish, of all things. I don't understand why you don't care for regular fish, but you'll eat lobster and shrimp."

He smirked. "You're just mad because I steal half of whatever you order when we go out to dinner."

She paused before blurting out, "Well, I don't like to share because I'm shellfish." She laughed uproariously, slapping her thigh at her own joke.

"That was terrible!" Derek protested, groaning loudly. He covered his face with his hands. "Why are you so lame?!"

Casey calmed down enough to say, "Admit it, that was funny. Plus, you love my stupid jokes."

She was right, yet again. He found her corny, dumb jokes incredibly endearing – not that he'd ever tell her that, of course.

"I'm not going to admit anything," he rebutted with a smug grin.

"Fine, have it your way. We both know I'm right," she sighed, looking away to glance at her watch. "Derek, it's a little past 6:30 now. Didn't you say earlier that you were picking her up at 7:00? You don't want to be late."

Derek's eyes widened. "Shit! Yeah, I did say that. And I still need to pick up flowers on the way! I gotta split, like, right now."

"Flowers?" Casey gasped dramatically, hand flying to her heart. "She really is special. You're pulling out all the stops."

"You betcha, Princess." Derek winked, grabbing his black sport coat from the hook near the door. Before he could dash out, Casey reached for his wrist.

"Not the sport coat," she corrected, taking it from his grasp to toss on the bed. She whipped around and snatched a familiar leather jacket from his closet.

Shoving it at him, she stated firmly, "This one is better suited for you. You'll look more like yourself and less like you're trying too hard."

He was about to smirk, but thought better of it. She was helping him out, after all. Instead, he gave her a genuine, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Case."

"You're welcome. Now get out of here and let me enjoy my own movie night in peace." She turned to exit his room, heading to their living room.

He followed close behind, reaching for the car keys, his wallet, and his phone, all of which were spread on the kitchen counter. Rather than book it like he had intended to, he remained rooted in his spot. He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that she couldn't have the last word.

Unable to resist provoking her one last time, he allowed himself to smirk now.

"Too bad you dumped Evan. Otherwise, you'd have a date of your own tonight."

In response, she chucked one of the couch pillows at him. Luckily, he anticipated her move and managed to duck out of the way, his hockey reflexes coming in handy. The pillow soared and hit the wall before sliding down to the ground. He grinned smugly, raising his chin in triumph.

"Be grateful that it wasn't another shoe," Casey muttered darkly, settling herself on the couch and pulling the throw blanket over her legs. The fire in her blue eyes returned, making Derek's heart slam in his chest.

When he didn't immediately comment, Casey continued. "I told you the break-up was mutual, so don't make me out to be the bad guy. The relationship had just run its course, so we agreed to –" she broke off then, searching for the right word. "uncouple," she eventually finished. Soon after, a haughty smile crept across her lips. "And I'll have you know that five months ago, you were ecstatic when things ended between Evan and me. You never liked him."

That was true. Evan absolutely grated on Derek's nerves, but that had less to do with his personality and more with the fact that he had been Casey's boyfriend. If the guy hadn't had the nerve to date her, Derek probably wouldn't have had a problem with him.

The annoying part wasn't even that Evan was a bad person; in fact, he was very much a gentleman and had treated her well in the two years they'd been together. No, the annoying part was that he just didn't deserve someone as amazing as Casey. No one did.

Derek kept this information to himself, obviously.

Playing it off as if it were no big deal, Derek shrugged. "He wasn't right for you. You could do way better than him."

"Aw, was that a compliment, Derek?" Casey cooed, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Nope, not in your dreams, McDonald." He smirked again, shoving his feet into his black dress shoes. "I'm gonna head out. See ya later, Spacey."

"If I know you, you won't be home until tomorrow. Good luck with her." She winked, grinning wickedly. She sunk further into the couch, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "Oh, if you want to impress your date, go to Smith's Flowers. It's a local shop that's not too far from here. It has the best selection, and owner, Mr. Smith, is incredibly knowledgeable about his flowers."

He nodded. "Got it, thanks."

With a wave, he walked out of their apartment into the cool evening air. As soon as he climbed inside of the Prince, he plugged in the address to Smith's Flowers into his phone. He sped off, hoping to quickly find a suitable bouquet before dashing across town to where Silvia lived.

Casey had been right – the flower shop was a short drive from the apartment. A sign on the door flashed "OPEN" at him, beckoning him to enter.

Derek pushed open the heavy glass door, hearing a little chime from a bell above him.

From the outside, the place didn't seem that appealing, but the inside was massive. Flowers of every color, shape, and size stretched as far as the eye could see. Gulping, Derek wiped his sweaty hands on his pants again. Everything was so overwhelming.

"May I help you, son?" an older gentleman, dressed in a white shirt and a green apron, asked from behind the counter.

Derek made his way to the counter, ducking under several hanging flower pots and side-stepping various large displays. Upon a closer look at the man's nametag, which read Oliver Smith, Derek smiled. He figured he was good in hands if the owner was willing to help him out.

"Hi. I'm looking for some flowers for a first date," he explained, tucking his hands in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on his heels. "I'm on my way to pick her up, so I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'll take whatever you recommend."

The man's – Mr. Smith's – green eyes, sparkled with amusement.

"First dates are such exciting events." He smiled kindly, walking around to meet Derek. "Since you're in a rush, I'll speed up this process. Normally, I'd ask you a list of questions to get a better understanding of what you're looking for, but seeing as how we're short on time, I'll just ask a couple. First, is she a classic kind of gal, or one who's a bit more daring?"

His answer was immediate. "Definitely classic."

"Wonderful," Mr. Smith answered, tapping his chin with his finger. "Second question – and this one is more personal and aimed at you – how romantic do you intend to be?"

"Uh…" Derek scratched the back of his neck. He had not anticipated this question. "I'm not sure? I'd like to make a good impression, but I'm not planning on declaring my love for her or anything like that. We've been friends for a while, but I finally managed to ask her out, so here we are."

"Noted. Thank you." Mr. Smith looked like he was thinking something over. "I'll be right back."

He vanished, only to reappear a few seconds later, holding a beautiful bouquet of red, light pink, and yellow roses.

"Since she's a classic kind of gal, roses will be perfect for her. Red obviously symbolizes romance and desire, light pink implies elegance, and yellow means that you value your friendship with her."

Derek's head spun with the information. Casey had been right; this man was extremely knowledgeable about the flowers in his shop.

"I'm not going to be able to remember all of that, but I'll take your word for it." He reached for his wallet. "How much for the flowers?"

Mr. Smith returned to his position behind the counter, still clutching the bouquet. "Well, normally I'd quote you $65, but seeing as how this is your first date, I'll say $50."

Derek's eyes bugged out of his head at the price, but he bit his tongue.

Go big or go home, he thought to himself.

"Okay, I'll take it." He pulled a few bills from his wallet and placed them on the counter. "Thank you for the discount, Mr. Smith. I appreciate it."

"No problem, son. I just hope you have fun on your date." He smiled again before turning his attention to the cash register.

As he worked, Derek glanced over Mr. Smith's shoulder, spotting a glass vase filled with an array of vibrant purple, green, blue, pink, and orange daises. He must have been staring intently at flowers, for Mr. Smith's gaze followed his after he wrapped up the bouquet of roses.

"Ah, those daises tend to be popular among the daring crowd. I usually sell out of my selection in a day. Today's been slower, though, so I still have one left. I don't think your classic gal is going to enjoy them, however."

Derek shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the present.

"You're right, she wouldn't be into them." He paused, letting himself smile for a moment while his thoughts drifted from Silvia to Casey. "There's this other girl I know who loves those flowers. She tells everyone she prefers roses because they're the symbol of romance, but deep down, she's crazy about colorful daisies." Before he could stop himself, Derek rambled on, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket. "They remind her of her dad. He'd always give her a bouquet when he came to see one of her dance recitals. Now, every time we randomly pass by those flowers, her eyes light up. She never says anything, but I know she wants some of her own."

"Are you sure you're going on a date with the right gal?" Mr. Smith asked, a knowing twinkle appearing in his eyes.

Derek frowned. "What do you mean?"

Patiently, Mr. Smith clarified, "It sounds like you know the second one a lot more. And that smile you just had? I've seen it before. Heck, I've had that same smile before. It's the one you have when you're thinking about, looking at, or are simply near the person you're in love with. It's the one I have when I'm around my wife, Susan."

Derek swallowed, feeling a chill run down his spine. Apparently, he was so obvious that even a complete stranger had picked up on his feelings.

He had two options: lie or admit some grain of the truth. He didn't want to outright lie to Mr. Smith – a man who seemed genuine and kind – but what choice did he have?

He was about to, but his mouth wouldn't let him.

"It's…complicated," he sighed. "I can't be with this other girl, so I'm just trying to move on. This date is supposed to help me do that."

Mr. Smith nodded empathically. "I understand, son. With matters of the heart, things are so rarely simple. Listen, you do whatever makes the most sense to you and it will work itself out." He glanced at the clock hanging near the entryway. "You best be off; you don't want to keep her waiting. I hope she enjoys the roses."

"Me, too. Thank you, Mr. Smith," Derek answered, picking up the bouquet. He quickly added, "For the flowers and for listening."

"Of course. Do call me Oliver, though. Mr. Smith is too formal for me, especially since I have a feeling I'll be seeing you around. If you're with a gal who appreciates flowers, you'll be in again. Trust me." The twinkle in his eyes reappeared.

He couldn't argue with that; he figured he'd probably buy more flowers for Silvia in the future.

In response, Derek stretched out his hand for a shake, which Oliver accepted. For an older gentleman, he sure had a firm handshake.

"My name is Derek. See you around, Oliver."

With that, he grinned and left, clutching the bouquet in his hands.

---

If Derek had bothered to turn around, even for the briefest moment, he would have caught Oliver smiling, reaching for the vase of colorful daisies.

From his peripheral vision, Oliver noticed Susan, his wife of 50 years, approaching. He assumed that she was taking a break from trimming the thorns off the roses in the backroom.

"Who did you just help?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

"A young lad – probably a university student – who's going on a first date. He wanted something to impress his date. But, if you ask me, he's taking out the wrong gal. It's clear that his heart belongs to someone else, but he won't take the plunge yet. I'm not worried, though. Something tells me he'll be back." He held up the vase to emphasize his point. "Maybe even tonight, if he figures it out."

"Those daises will have a nice home, after all," Susan murmured affectionately.

"They sure will." He set down the vase and began wiping the countertop, expecting the same man to rush in a couple of hours later, right before closing time.

---

Thankfully, the drive to Silvia's apartment was relatively short. Derek made it there in record time, with a whole two minutes to spare. It was a good thing, too – he needed the extra time to calm himself down. Before stepping out of the Prince, he closed his eyes for a second, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly.

You can do this, Venturi, he reminded himself, trying to boost his confidence.

With that in mind, he took a hold of the bouquet and walked to her door. With one last deep breath, he knocked twice. He heard some shuffling from the other side before the door was flung open, revealing his date.

Standing in front of Derek was a breathtaking woman with wavy blond hair and friendly brown eyes, dressed in a cranberry-colored lace dress with a white cardigan over the top. The light from outside of her apartment cast her in an ethereal glow.

His heart should have beat wildly in his chest and his stomach should have fluttered at the sight of her.

Instead, he felt a familiar tug of disappointment and hollowness. He knew the reason – of course he did. It was the same damn reason why none of the dates in the past couple of years had worked out, but that but didn't make it any easier for him.

He internally cursed himself, attempting to push that thought way.

If Silvia noticed his distress, she didn't mention it. Instead, she smiled warmly at him.

"Hi, Derek. Thank you for picking me up tonight," she said quietly, the appreciation evident in her voice.

"No problem," he answered, forcing himself to return to her smile. He gestured to the flowers. "These are for you. The shop owner told me what each rose color means, but I'm having trouble remembering what all he said. He mentioned something about romance, friendship, and elegance, though."

"Oh, these are gorgeous!" she murmured in awe, flashing her pearly white teeth in a bright smile. "And it's fine that you don't remember the symbolism – I'm just delighted that you took so much effort to pick these out for me. That was sweet of you, thank you. I'll go place these in some water." She turned to head back inside, calling over her shoulder, "You're welcome to come in, if you'd like to."

Old Derek wouldn't have hesitated to follow a girl into her home (always upon her request, of course), but current Derek shook his head.

"No, it's okay. You can just meet me in the car when you're ready."

"Sounds good!"

He didn't have to wait long; she climbed into the Prince about a minute later. They made small talk as he drove them to The Deep-Sea Eatery. During the drive, he learned that Silvia preferred dogs to cats (he did, too, but Casey insisted that cats were lovable creatures who deserved a chance), was Sorted into Hufflepuff House (Casey, a typical Ravenclaw, begged him to take the Sorting Hat quiz, which landed him in Slytherin, obviously), and despite loving most kinds of fish, she wasn't partial to shellfish (a shame really, because he would have likely nicked some, if she had ordered any).

By the time they reached the restaurant's huge parking lot, which was nearly full, Derek was concerned that he'd have to park several meters away. Luckily, he located one opening and squeezed the vehicle into the tight space. As they made their way into the restaurant, Derek noticed the long line of customers waiting to get inside. With a sigh of relief, he was glad that he had the foresight to make a reservation.

After giving the hostess his name, they were whisked away to their table – the best seat in the house, if he had to guess. It was table right by the window, overlooking the beautiful, sparkling lake.

Once seated, with menus in their hands, Derek took a moment to glance around the restaurant. It really was nice. The place was tastefully decorated to resemble an underground grotto. It was slightly spooky – dining in a cave-like setting – but he couldn't deny that there was also an attractive quality to it.

Casey would love this, he thought. She always did have a soft spot for interesting, quirky interior design. In fact, every time she discovered a particular design element that she liked, she'd snap a picture and add it to a scrapbook labeled, 'Ideas for My Future Home.' As much as he liked to tease her about it, Derek thought it was adorable how excited she became after adding a new picture to the book.

He was about to scold himself again for thinking about her, but Silvia's voice brought him back to present.

"It's official – this place is amazing, Derek," she giggled, eyes dancing with joy. "Not only is it beautiful in here, but the menu has great options. I'm having trouble choosing among the entrees – they all seem delicious."

He grinned. "I'm glad you approve of my choice."

She nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, very much so. You're impressing me so far."

He chuckled, eyes drifting to the menu. "That was the goal."

She laughed along with him, easing the tension in his chest.

You can do this, he reminded himself.

His hope, however, began to slip when another thought entered his mind. It happened as soon as he noticed an error on the menu – Soredfish, rather than Swordfish.

Casey would be all over that typo.

When they did venture out and dine together, he'd often pick out the same typo, but he never commented on it. That was always her thing. Since she was a Grade-A Keener, it was only natural that she would also be a huge grammar and spelling snob. When he first met her, he found this quirk of hers extremely irritating, but slowly over time, he became accustomed to it. Hell, he even kind of (secretly) liked it.

A laugh slipped out before he could reign it in.

He looked up from the menu to find Silvia with a bemused expression.

"What's so funny?" she asked, her brown eyes alight with curiosity.

Another thought zoomed into his mind. Her eyes are pretty, but they're…not as passionate and fiery as a certain pair of blues eyes that I know.

Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, he explained, "Swordfish is spelled incorrectly. I'm laughing because I know someone who loves finding typos on menus, and she'd have a field day with this one."

Silvia's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "I know everyone has their quirks, and I usually don't pass judgement too quickly, but isn't pointing out errors on menus, I don't know, a little snooty?" she questioned softly, almost hesitantly.

Derek could feel his grin fade. He shrugged, attempting to appear unaffected by her comment.

"Well, I found it annoying at first, but I guess I got used to it over the years. I think it's kinda funny now."

Just as Silvia was about to respond, the waiter appeared to announce the specials of the night and to take their drink order. Silvia requested a white wine – a Riesling – and Derek asked for his usual go-to beverage – Labatt Blue.

As the waiter disappeared to retrieve their beverages, Derek tried not to think of what Casey would order to drink if she were here. (He failed, of course. He knew exactly what her beverage would be – a glass of the driest Merlot possible.)

"Do you prefer white wine over red wine?" Derek asked conversationally.

Silvia nodded. "I do. Both of my parents are white wine drinkers, so that's what I grew accustomed to. All of us prefer our wine on the sweeter side, too."

Not Casey, his mind supplied. She likes her wine red and extremely dry, for some strange reason.

He ignored that random thought and forged ahead. "I've heard good things about white wine. I haven't ever tried it myself, though. I usually drink beer, but sometimes I'll have a sip or two of red wine."

Casey always lets me taste some of her wine, which makes my lips pucker because it's sort of disgusting. But, it's basically a tradition at this point, so I just go along with it.

A hint of a smile appeared on Silvia's lips, as she raised a delicate eyebrow in question.

"You definitely strike me as a beer drinker, but I'm surprised about the red wine. May I ask why you sometimes indulge in that beverage?"

Derek shrugged again. "Whenever I have dinner with…" he trailed off, unable to force the word, 'stepsister' out of his mouth. He changed tactics, coughing out, "this one friend, she orders red wine, so I usually have a sample of it."

Silvia's smile dimmed, while her eyes brimmed with something akin to exasperation.

"Derek," she sighed. "I'm going to go out on a limb here, but is this friend the same one who points out errors on menus?"

Derek opened his mouth to answer, but the waiter chose to reappear again, drinks in hand. He set the glass of beer in front of Derek, who took a huge gulp to buy himself a little time.

"Are you two ready to order?" the waiter – Matthew – asked politely.

Derek's eyes widened. With the tumble of thoughts in his head, he hadn't even considered what he was having for dinner. He stared at Silvia, eyes pleading, hoping she'd pick up the hint.

Thankfully, she did.

"There are so many dishes to choose from, we're having trouble deciding. If you could please give us a minute, that would be wonderful," she murmured to Matthew.

"Sure thing. I know there's quite a few options, so feel free to take your time. Please let know if you have any questions, or if I can assist with anything. I'll be back in a bit," he responded, heading off to wait on another table in his section.

As soon as Matthew was out of earshot, Silvia turned to Derek expectantly.

A part of him was desperate to lie, but the noble side of him knew that she deserved better than that.

"Yes, it's the same girl," he replied dejectedly, shoulders slumping. His stomach tightened, while his heartbeat rushed in his ears.

As he stared at his date from across the table, a dreaded realization slammed into him like freight train.

She's never going to be Casey. I'm an idiot for thinking that I could move on.

"I'm sorry, Silvia," he mumbled remorsefully. "I'm glad we've had a chance to become friends. But…" he paused, struggling to continue with the next part. "I don't think I can date you because I…have feelings…for someone else." He blinked, taking a shaking breath. When he spoke again, there was a note of finality in his voice. "You are an amazing person and you deserve much better than me." He chuckled self-deprecatingly, a pitiful smile on his lips. "I'm just a poor bastard who can't seem to get over this girl. I've tried and I fail every single time."

Rather than seethe at him in anger or look at him with sadness in her eyes, her lips curved into a sympathetic smile.

"It's okay," she said, her voice quiet but understanding. "You've been acting off since you picked me up and now I know why." She paused, appearing deep in thought. "It's the girl that we sometimes see in the Quad, isn't it? The brunette with the blonde highlights?"

"Yeah," Derek muttered, surprise flitting across his face. "How did you know?"

"Honey," Silvia began patiently, almost as if she were speaking to a young schoolboy. "There is nothing platonic about the way you look at her. You look at her like…she is everything – the stars, the moon, the sun, the entire universe."

Never in his life had he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole than in this very moment. His head spun so much that he wasn't sure if he was still sitting upright.

"I'm that obvious, huh?" he groaned, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Silvia raised her right shoulder in a shrug. "A little, but I'm also a perceptive person. I'm double majoring in Film and in Psychology, so I tend to be better at reading people than the average individual."

Derek frowned, feeling that something wasn't quite adding up. "If you knew, then why…"

"Did I accept a date from you?" she finished for him, an eyebrow arched.

"Yeah."

Her lips slid into a mischievous smile. "Derek, we're friends, but I won't deny that I find you attractive. I wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to spend time with you outside of the realm of school." The playfulness of her smile disappeared; in its place was a neutral expression. "Even though I've noticed you've had your eyes on someone else, I was curious if you'd consider giving this," she gestured to the space between them, "a chance. At least I won't have to wonder about that anymore. I have a clear answer now."

In the next moment, Matthew made his entrance, note-pad in hand. "Have I given you enough time to decide what you'll be having tonight?" he asked.

Before turning to their waiter, Silvia shot Derek a warning glare that clearly read, Let me handle this. Stay quiet and just nod along with what I say.

With a deeply apologetic look, Silvia spoke to Matthew. "We're so sorry. Something just came up for my friend here." She gestured toward Derek. "And he's needed at home soon. I think we'll just stick with our beverages. We know that there's a long line outside, so I'm sure another party would appreciate this table. Please bring us separate checks at your earliest convenience."

Matthew's eyes widened at her statement, but he acquiesced, dashing off to fulfill Silvia's request.

As soon as he left, Derek sighed. "Silvia…" he started uneasily, fiddling with the napkin in his lap.

"It's okay," she reiterated, in the same understanding tone. "Now that we've addressed the elephant in the room, I'm not going to make you sit through an entire dinner." She paused, a tiny, teasing smile on her lips. "Don't think that means you're off the hook, though. We still should talk about this. After we finish our drinks, let's take a walk. There's a park near campus that I visit when I need to think. It's usually deserted during this time of the evening, so it'll be the perfect spot."

Derek didn't want to reject the idea. He'd already fucked up – the least he could do was give her this.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he mumbled, "All right."

"Thank you," she responded quietly before shooting him a genuine smile.

They stared at one another for a moment before Derek cracked a grin, launching into a joke that significantly lightened the mood. After that, they laughed easily, trading thoughts and opinions on the newly released films that had hit cinemas.

By the time they finished their drinks and settled their checks, Derek was in a slightly better state of mind, though his insides continued to twist and turn as he silently followed Silvia's directions to the park. Under normal circumstances, he would have switched on the radio; music always calmed his nerves, but he knew it would be a loss cause tonight.

When he reached their destination, he parked the Prince. Before he opened his door, he couldn't help but tease, "This isn't some ploy to kill me and hide the body, is it?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "No. I'd be a lot more subtle, if that were the case."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he deadpanned, though his lips twitched with amusement.

They both exited the Prince and began a leisurely stroll. The moon hung above them, bathing them in a soft light.

As much as he wanted to run from this situation, he knew he really couldn't. It was time to talk about it. They were here for a reason, after all.

Rather than joke his way out of it, or beat around the bush, he angled his head at her and simply stated, "I know you have a lot of questions. Fire away."

Silvia bit her lip, keeping her gaze trained ahead.

"Who is she?" she asked warily, completely unaware that she had gone straight for the jugular. She probably assumed that Casey was an old friend, an ex-girlfriend, or an acquaintance.

The truth, of course, was so much worse. And complicated.

In the months that Derek had known Silvia, he had avoided nearly all conversations involving his life in London. What little he did say was kept vague on purpose – he didn't take high school seriously and had spent his time playing hockey, pulling pranks, and chasing girls, his parents were divorced, his dad had gotten remarried, and he had spent the last few years being a part of a blended family. He never discussed anyone's names and he certainly never breathed a word about Casey (or the fact that they were living together). He knew that if he and Silvia chose to take the next step in their relationship, he'd eventually have to bring all of this up. But, like everything he did in his life, he figured he could fly by the seat of his pants.

Derek gulped, eyes downcast. "Her name is Casey. I've known her since I was fifteen," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking.

Silvia stopped in her tracks, shifting her body to face him. She carefully placed a hand on his arm, her touch bringing some comfort.

In a soothing voice, she reassured him, "If it makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to go into too much detail."

Derek winced, feeling his heart sink. She really did deserve better than him.

"I appreciate that. I don't really want to get into how I met her. Just for your reference, we were…put in a situation where we had to get to know each other. For the longest time, we were at each other's throats." An involuntary smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the early days of sharing a home with Casey. After a moment, he continued, his smile fading. "I never meant to have feelings for her. God knows I've tried everything I could think of to not have them."

He wrung his hands, propelling himself forward. He couldn't stand still while he talked about this. He hoped that Silvia would take the hint. Luckily, she did, and they continued walking, albeit at a slightly quicker pace than before. They came to a fork in the road that split left and right. Derek made the decision to head to the right, ducking underneath a low hanging branch. Silvia followed suit, remaining silent.

Derek took that as his cue to keep going with his explanation.

"She's held my interest from the moment we met. Because of the situation we were in, I knew I could never have her, so I pushed her away. I was rude and mean to her on purpose, figuring she'd get fed up and leave me alone. Apparently, I was wrong." He chuckled dryly, shaking his head fondly. "Unlike everyone else, she didn't put up with my shit and never let me get away with anything. We fought all the damn time. Back then, I was even more emotionally stunted than I am now, so fighting was the only way I knew I how to handle her. It was just…easier than confronting my fucked-up feelings."

Derek paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He had never explained this to anyone, so articulating it all for the first time was…surreal. And terrifying.

Silvia turned to him, with a look that asked if he had more to say. He gave her a slight nod.

"To everyone on the outside, I was just a kid who liked to torment her. It wasn't like I was pretending, though. I really did enjoy messing with her – it was, and still is, so easy to get under her skin. But, on the inside, I cared about her. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it." He shrugged his shoulders, waving his hand absentmindedly in the air. "Superman had Kryptonite and I had Casey. She was, and always will be, my weakness. When she was sad, or when she someone hurt her, it tore me up. I kept up the teasing and the mocking, but I also found little ways of showing her I cared." His lips curved into a bittersweet smile – one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "One time, her dad was in town to visit, but he barely paid attention to her when he was there. When he left, she was a mess. I couldn't leave her like that, so I called him and got him to come back to spend time with her."

The heartbreaking smile remained on his lips. "It's been this way for six years. And no matter what I do or who I choose to date, nothing will change the way I feel." He glanced down, unable to stop the strangled laugh that left his throat. "It's stupid. Completely nuts, if you ask me. If I know there's something that will make her even remotely happy, I don't hesitate, I just do it, no questions asked. Seeing her happy…it's the best goddamn feeling in the world. And it sucks because I shouldn't feel this way, and yet, I do."

By the time he finished spilling his guts, they had reached a bench. Grateful for a chance to take a break, he plopped down, resting his forearms on his thighs. He patiently waited for Silvia to respond.

After a beat of silence, she observed, "You've been holding that in for a long time."

"Yeah," Derek sighed, threading his hands in his hair and tugging at it anxiously.

"For what it's worth, thank you for telling me," she breathed, reaching out to still his hands. She gently placed them in his lap, watching him carefully before whispering, "I know that wasn't easy. Falling in love is hard enough, but fully dissecting and discussing it can be an extremely taxing process."

"Love?" he echoed, eyes widening.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, yes. Based on everything you've told me, you're clearly in love with her." Her expression softened. "You know that, right?"

"I…" he hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated his next words. "Yeah, I guess a part of me knew that I was heading down that road, but I've never said it out loud before. Once I do, it becomes real, you know? And when it becomes real, it's fucking scary."

"Derek, it's been real since you were fifteen," Silvia reasoned sternly. "Don't give me that excuse."

He slumped in his seat. "Yeah, you're right," he muttered miserably.

"You haven't said anything to her, have you?

Derek shook his head no.

Silvia searched his eyes, a serious expression on her face.

"Ah," she murmured empathically. "You're terrified of losing her."

He nodded, his body sagging in relief. He was glad that she didn't make him say it out loud.

"That's perfectly understandable," she validated before sighing. "If I were in your place, I'd struggle with that, too."

For a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, but Silvia raised her finger soon after, signaling that she wasn't finished.

"But, what if she does the same way? Did you ever let yourself consider that?" she asked, gesturing wildly with her hands.

"No. I never let myself hope because if I did…well, the power of it would end up wrecking me." He glanced at her, expecting some sort of reaction.

She fixed with him a determined look. "Derek, I'm your friend, first and foremost. And as your friend, I have to tell you something."

His eyebrows lifted at her ominous statement. "What?"

"I don't believe in love at first sight, and I don't believe in soul mates or twin flames. I don't believe in fate, or destiny, or that a couple's story can be 'written in the stars.' I don't read sickeningly sweet romance novels, nor do I enjoy watching films that focus on unrealistic expectations about love. But, what I do believe in is chemistry. And it would take an absolute fool not to notice that you and Casey have chemistry. I've never seen you exchange any words with her, but I didn't have to. It's all in the way you look at her, like you'd be truly without her."

She threw her hands up, her voice escalating with urgency. "If you have chemistry, then you only need one other thing: timing. I sense that the timing wasn't right when you were younger, for reasons that I know that you prefer not to discuss. We won't get into that, so don't worry."

She took a breath before continuing. "I won't speak on your behalf because I don't know if the timing is any better for you now. You deserve to at least think about it, though. Look, I understand that fear has dictated your decisions regarding Casey, but how long can you keep that up? How long can you sit back, loving her from afar? If she never knows how you feel, what will stop her from finding someone that she can spend the rest of her life with? Could you live with yourself, if that were to happen? What if…what if she returns your feelings and could be happy with you? Didn't you say that seeing her happy was the highlight of your life?"

Derek flinched at the barrage of questions. Rather than immediately answer her, he closed his eyes, breathing in a huge supply oxygen before slowly releasing it. Silence, thick and heavy, hung in the air.

Without moving from his position, he considered Silvia's words. Besides the fact that he was technically Casey's stepbrother, timing had always been the Achilles Heel of his relationship with her. In the past, the timing had been awful. But, now…well, the timing didn't actually seem that bad. In fact, it was sort of…ideal? After all, he had accepted the whole gambit of his feelings for her, they had grown significantly closer, they didn't live under the same room as their parents and shared siblings, and were both single at the same time.

The chemistry was definitely there – had always been there – and it looked like the timing was finally on their side.

When he opened his eyes, a strange calmness settled over him.

With resolution in his voice, he admitted, "I will never want anyone more than I want Casey. She is it for me, Silvia. She fucking stole my heart and hasn't given it back. She's had the power to crush it this whole time. And yet…she hasn't. It's been kept safe, for the most part. I don't know why exactly, but I think it's time to find out."

Judging from the gleeful look in Silvia's eyes, Derek could tell that she wanted to jump into the conversation, but he had more to say, so he surged on.

"Don't get me wrong – just because I'm willing to take this next step doesn't mean I'm not scared. I still am. I know there's a huge possibility that this could blow up in my face. But," he paused, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "I'm also…hopeful. I never thought I'd say that, but that's got to be what this weird twisting, pleasant feeling in my stomach is, right?" He motioned to his midsection.

Silvia straightened her back, angling closer to him. Her eyes glimmered with relief and, and if Derek had to guess, giddiness.

"Yes, I'd call that hope. And I'm pretty sure I know why she hasn't broken or damaged your heart, but I think it's best if you figure that out on your own."

He nodded. "I'm done running and hiding; I've been doing it for far too long. She deserves to know the truth."

"She does." A large grin spread across her face. "So…how are you going to tell her?"

The color instantly drained from Derek's face. He wanted to shout, 'Can't you let me have this minute to myself?! I literally just decided to tell the woman I love that I love her, and you ask me how I'm going to do it?'

Figuring that it might disturb her if he yelled, he settled for, "I have no idea. I'm not good at romance. In fact, I'm the worst at it. I've always fucked up when it comes to romantic gestures. Jesus, I'm not even good with words." He flailed his arms around, teetering on the edge of a freak-out.

Suddenly, a peal of laughter erupted from Silvia. Alarmed, Derek glanced over to find her nearly keeling over with laughter, wiping at her eyes.

"You think this is funny?!" he snarled at her.

"Yes," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. A few seconds later, she calmed down enough to apologize. "I'm sorry for laughing. I didn't mean to upset you. I just find your reaction amusing because you normally know exactly what to say or do. Your confidence often borders on arrogance. I have a feeling that you're not used to feeling out of your depth. But, she makes you feel that way, which is honestly kind of cute," she cooed, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

"Whatever," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Derek," she placated, nudging him. "Just because I personally dislike typical romantic gestures doesn't mean I don't know what the process looks like. You know Casey better than anyone and you'll know exactly what she'll love. All you need is a little help to organize your thoughts and devise a plan. That's where I come in. I can help you plan the perfect way to tell her." She smiled imploringly, lacing her fingers together and holding them underneath her chin. "Please?"

He scrubbed his hand across his face. "Why do you want to help?" he griped, eyeing her suspiciously.

Shrugging, she responded honestly, "I'm your friend, and I care about you. Let's be honest – if I didn't push you, just a little, you'd stay rooted in your spot. We both know that six years is a long time to hold a torch for someone. Look, you've already come so far, Derek. Could you really let yourself throw in the towel now?"

He answered her question with one of his own.

"What if I fuck up this whole thing? What if I say the wrong thing?" He tried to respond with a neutral tone, but it came out softer and more filled with doubt than he intended.

She shook her head, a reassuring smile on her lips. "You won't."

"How do you know that?"

"It's Casey," she reasoned. "The second you look at her, everything will fall into place. You'll know exactly what to say. Just trust me on this one."

He had no idea why she was so confident, but he didn't feel like arguing.

"All right," he sighed, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. "You want to create a plan? Let's do it."

For the next twenty minutes, Derek outlined Casey's interests and preferences. Silvia listened patiently, interjecting her thoughts and ideas every now and then. Together, they agreed that he would declare his feelings in two weeks' time – when March Break rolled around.

He would begin the day like any other, but would instruct Casey to clear her schedule for an event-filled afternoon and evening together. First, he would take her to the studio downtown that specialized in salsa and tango dancing (she longed to learn both styles of dance, but never worked up enough courage to try either). After dancing, they'd return home to shower and dress for their evening out. He typically took less time to prepare, so while she finished up, he'd run out and purchase those crazy daisies for her. He'd take her to her favorite Italian restaurant – Martino's – and after dinner, they would take a walk in this very park. It was here that he would pour his heart out to her. After all, what would be more romantic than a late-night stroll with the beautiful moonlight shining above them?

By the time Derek and Silvia discussed all the details for this elaborate plan, which they appropriately named OPERATION FEELINGS, Derek wanted to slump over and pass out for the next ten years. In his twenty-one years of life, he had never been this emotionally exhausted before. Truthfully, he had no idea how people could fall in and out of love so many times. How the hell did they survive it each time?

Once was enough for him, thank you very much.

Silvia noticed his exhaustion, for in the next moment, she stood, offering her hand for him to pull himself up on his feet. Once he steadied himself, she gently shoved him toward the path they took to get there.

"Come on, Romeo. You really look like you could use some rest. It's time for us to wrap up this evening."

As they started in the direction of the car, Derek couldn't help but feel guilty all over again. Not only did put the brakes on their date, but he ended up discussing his love for another woman during said date.

Desperate to say something, he mumbled, "Silvia, I'm really sorry this date turned out to be a disaster. I didn't mean to drop all of this on you."

She was quick to respond. "Don't apologize, Derek. I think the evening ended exactly the way it was supposed to." She playfully bumped her shoulder against his. "No hard feelings, I promise. We're friends, remember? Real friends learn to accept each other's quirks, and one of yours happens to be this rather deep obsession of a girl named Casey." She giggled, a teasing lilt to her laugh.

Flushing, Derek simply nodded. He wasn't even going to refute her point, considering it was one-hundred percent true.

Not that he'd ever say it out loud, of course.

Thankfully, her words seemed to lift his spirits. The guilt was still there, churning in his stomach, but it lessened considerably.

The walk back to the Prince was brisk, as was the drive to Silvia's apartment. Parking the car in front of her building, he glanced at the clock.

Even though he planned on presenting Casey with her favorite flowers on the night of OPERATION FEELINGS, he still figured she would enjoy a nice surprise tonight. If he hurried, he could make it back to Smith's Flowers before closing time.

Silvia could see the wheels turning in his head. She kept one hand on the latch to the door, but turned to him with a radiant smile. With her other hand, she squeezed his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"OPERATION FEELINGS is supposed to occur in two weeks, but I know that look." Her smile turned smug. "You're going to see her tonight."

She was right, of course, though he didn't have much of a choice about that. It was both a pleasure and an absolute curse that the love of his life also happened to be his roommate.

He gave her the smallest of nods in return.

"I hope you follow through with the plan and the timeline for it, but regardless of whether or not that happens, I know that you'll know what to do when the time is right. So, go get her," she whispered before opening the door and disappearing from sight.

He smiled, thankful that he had spent the evening with a great friend.

Shaking his head, he stared at the clock again, estimating his chances. He had fifteen minutes before Smith's Flowers closed, so he slammed on the accelerator and booked it. On his way there, he tried to find some excuse to explain why he decided to return, but his mind came up blank.

Oh, just wing it, he thought to himself.

He did that with most things in his life – what was one more?

He attempted to appear causal as he wandered into the shop for the second time that evening. He stuck his hands in his jacket pocket again, hoping that the action would shield them from revealing how nervous he really was. He found Oliver whistling jovially as he swept the floor around the counter.

"Hi, Derek," Oliver greeted warmly, pausing his movements. "It's good to see you again. How was your date?"

"Hello, Oliver." He paused, internally battling with himself on what to say. With a sigh, he answered honestly. "Well, it didn't turn out the way I expected, but I'm glad it didn't." He paused, tipping his head in direction of the counter. "Do you still have those daisies, by chance?"

The older man gave him a gentle smile, understanding flickering in his eyes.

"You're in luck. That last vase didn't sell, so yes, it's available for you."

"Great," Derek breathed. "I'll take it."

He was about to pull out his wallet, but Oliver shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, son. This one will be on me tonight. I know these daisies will be good hands." Leaning the broom against the counter, he winked. "Just make sure to bring her in the next time. I'd like to meet her."

Derek wanted to say, Based on Casey's recommendation to come here, it seems that you've already met her, but bit his tongue. He didn't want to get ahead of himself.

Still, he was touched by the shop owner's kind gesture. "Thank you, Oliver. This means a lot."

"You're welcome."

In the next instant, Oliver ducked behind the counter to fetch the vase. As Derek watched him, he mumbled, "You knew I'd be back, didn't you?"

"I had a feeling," Oliver confessed, carefully sliding the vase over to Derek. With another knowing look, he said, "Don't keep her waiting."

"I won't. Goodnight, Oliver." Derek spun on his heel to leave, but before he exited the shop, he called over his shoulder, "If things work out, she'll be with me the next time."

"Looking forward to it," Oliver chuckled, picking up his broom once again.

On the way home, Derek wrestled with the idea of what to say to Casey when he walked through the door. Undoubtedly, she'd ask why he was home in the first place. She knew that he tended to get lucky on the first date, but there had been a few horrible ones in the past where he'd stumbled home, drunk off his ass. During those unfortunate times, she immediately gave him an ear-full, but would end up taking mercy on him by providing plenty of water, snacks, and headache relief medicine.

As if the first question weren't bad enough, she'd then notice the damn vase of flowers in his hands.

How the fuck am I going to explain that?

As Derek climbed the stairs to the apartment, he still didn't have an answer. And nothing apparently came to mind, even as he shoved his key in the door and flung it open.

"Case, I'm home!" he announced his presence, making sure that she didn't assume someone had broken in.

Stepping through, he shrugged off his jacket, throwing it unceremoniously on the dining room table. His eyes zeroed in on the extra-large pizza box that lay in the center of the table. His stomach growled, reminding them that he hadn't eaten dinner yet.

I wonder if she left me any, he mused silently before placing the vase of flowers next to it.

"Derek!" Casey yelped, surprise and – panic? – coloring her tone. She leapt up from her seat on the couch, her cheeks flaming. "What are you doing home tonight?"

She tried to cover up the outfit she was currently wearing, but it was too late.

His eyes drank her in, for she stood before him in pair of black leggings and his university hockey hoodie.

She was wearing his hoodie. HIS hoodie.

Oh my god.

He could feel his brain short-circuiting.

"Derek?" she asked quietly, anxiously. "Why are you here?"

He ignored her question. "Why are you wearing my hoodie?" he responded, barely breathing.

Her cheeks redden further, but she stared at him, a look of defiance on her face.

"You want the truth?" she hissed, lifting her chin at him.

He nodded, too afraid to give her a verbal answer.

With the longest sigh in the world, Casey muttered, "I steal your hoodies, okay? When you're out and when I'm planning on staying in, I pull one out of your closet to wear. They're big and comfy. And they smell like you. I like wearing them when I'm studying or when I'm watching movies. I always wash them, though, so you'll never catch on that I wear them."

He appreciated that she didn't apologize for her actions. He'd never want her to; more than anything, he'd want to see her in his clothes everyday for the rest of their lives.

Relying on a familiar coping mechanism – humor – he laughed, shaking his head in fondness. "No wonder my clothes smell like laundry detergent more than I'd like them to."

She moved away from the couch to approach him. Jabbing a finger at his chest, she barked, "It's your turn now. Why are you home?"

"Date didn't go according to plan," he choked out, trying to ignore the desperate part of his brain that kept pointing out how sexy she looked when she was wound-up like this.

Instantly, her face softened, the fight slowly draining from her. She removed her hand from his chest.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, sympathetically. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head no.

She seemed to accept his non-verbal communication. Backing up, she waved her hand at the box of pizza on the table.

"I know you just returned from dinner, but that's never stopped you from snacking on something right after. I ordered our usual and there's more than half left. Have at it." She grinned, tilting her head toward the TV in the living room. "Want to watch a movie? I was in the middle of Casablanca, but we can switch it to Taxi Driver, if you'd rather. I know that's one of your favorites."

Her piercing, haunting blue eyes bore into his, sparkling with that look – the same one from that fateful night, years ago in their parents' kitchen. It was the one he desperately tried to forget, and yet, always thought about.

Rather than turn away and head for the pizza, as he was typically prone to do, he continued to stare at her.

Silvia's words echoed in his head: "The second you look at her, everything will fall into place. You'll know exactly what to say."

All details of OPERATION FEELINGS immediately flew out of the window.

Hey, could you blame him? He'd always been the fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants kind of guy, anyway.

Gazing meaningfully at her, he blurted out the first thought that came to mind.

"You're a sucker for romance, and since roses are classic symbols of romance, you tell everyone that roses are your favorite flowers. But," Derek pointed his thumb at the vase on the table. "These crazy daisies are your actual favorite because you always think of your dad when you see them."

Casey's eyes followed the motion of Derek's hand. When her gaze settled on the flowers, she gasped.

"W-what…" she stammered, but Derek didn't let her finish.

"You're classically trained in ballet and jazz, but there are other styles that you really want to learn." He swallowed, feeling his heart jump into his throat. "You're particularly fascinated by salsa dancing and tango."

"Derek, what are you –"

He stepped closer to her, barreling on. "You're never afraid to sing loudly in the shower. I can hear you from the damn kitchen, but I never tell you to pipe down because…I like how unrestrained you sound when you let loose."

Frustration (and possibly a hint of amazement) flared in her eyes. "Der-ek –" she started again, a warning in her voice.

Whether it was to push her buttons, or because his mouth literally couldn't stop running, he didn't heed to her impending threat.

"Even though the romantic in you wants to visit France someday, the part of you that loves history, especially family history, wants to take a trip to Ireland and Scotland because your ancestors are from there."

She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing him with an icy glare.

Apparently, he paused long enough for her to snap, "Why the hell are you telling me all of this?"

"Casey." His voice broke on her name. His stomach roiled – he felt like he was hanging upside down on one of the largest, scariest roller coasters in the world. "I suck at romance. I'm terrible with words in any situation. And most of the time, I'd rather chop off my own arm than talk about my feelings. This –" he motioned to space between them. "is hard for me. But, I'm trying for you. So, here goes nothing."

He gulped, mentally steadying himself for his next move.

"I've been looking at you since I was fifteen and I haven't stopped. Over time…I noticed things about you." He gave her a firm look, almost as if he were addressing an unspoken question. "And no, I didn't fucking read your diary, or sneak into your room to snoop around, or stalk you from hidden corners. You've just…existed…and I haven't been able to look away." He shrugged, trying his damnedest to appear unaffected.

Her expression transitioned from irritation to utter bewilderment in two seconds flat. If the moment weren't so serious, he would have laughed. But, even he knew that laughing was certainly not an appropriate response for the time being.

She recovered quickly. Twisting her lips into a smirk, she mocked, "Oh, you think you know me?" She arched her an eyebrow. "Prove it."

The words flew out of his mouth at lightning speed.

"You have a plan for everything, but you're still unsure of what career you want to pursue when we graduate. You've been tossing around ideas of becoming an economist, an English professor, or a lawyer. The uncertainty of it all both excites you and terrifies you."

"Your favorite beverage is tea. You drink different flavors for different reasons – peppermint when you're under a lot of stress, chamomile before you go to bed, and Earl Grey when you're studying."

"You paint your nails to reflect your mood. Purple shows up when you miss the family, black is for when you're angry or upset, yellow means you're happy about something, when you want to remain calm, your nails are blue. When they're red…" he gulped, tugging at his collar. "You're usually thinking about some guy."

At that last statement, Casey opened her mouth to speak, but Derek kept going.

"You prefer bubblegum pop music, but when you study, you listen to classical. Your natural instrument is your voice, but you wished you played a string instrument, too. The violin is your favorite."

This next one made Derek roll his eyes. "You have an annoying habit of talking during movies. While I try to silently appreciate the cinematography and other details, you're yammering on about this and that. Eventually, I just give up watching the thing and focus on what you're saying."

"You sneeze with your whole body, which is funny in and of itself. What's funnier, though, is when you laugh so hard that you snort."

"You always read before bed. Usually it's a historical fiction book, since that's your favorite genre. Sometimes if you're feeling nostalgic, you'll pull out your beat-up, torn copy of The Little Prince. It's the same one that you used to read to Lizzie to help her fall asleep when she was younger."

"You're a complete health nut, always nagging me to eat my daily dose of fruits and veggies. But, you like to occasionally break your rules and indulge in junk food." He smirked wickedly. "Every time we drive back to London, you beg me to stop at a fast-food joint so you can scarf down a regular – not soy – burger, super salty fries, and a Diet Coke."

His smirk remained firmly on his lips as he mentioned, "You won't eat anyone's French toast but mine. On the Sundays when we don't visit Lakeside for brunch, you demand that I make you a plateful of French toast."

"You have this strange love of cats." Despite his effort to fight a smile, he couldn't help it – one broke across his lips. "Every Saturday, you steal the Prince to visit the animal shelter on the corner of Adams and Jefferson. There's a cat with reddish-brown fur and copper eyes that you see every time. He hasn't found a permanent home yet because he's a bit of a troublemaker. You can't explain why, but you have a fondness for him. You hope that he'll still be there by the time you're ready to adopt."

He lowered his voice, as he prepared himself to enter dangerous territory.

"You have a fear of losing control, so you never have more than one alcoholic beverage at any one time. When you do drink, it's usually a glass of the driest Merlot possible. If we're drinking beer at home, you'll swipe a bottle from my Labatt Blue stash. If you want a cocktail, you'll order a Sex on the Beach." He grinned briefly before saying, "The last one is ironic because you usually avoid beaches. You hate how messy sand is and how it feels between your toes."

A serious expression soon replaced his grin. "You struggle with anxiety. Even with a therapist and medication, you still have your bad days. I always make sure I'm home on those days, in case you need me."

"Derek," Casey whispered, the softness of her voice catching Derek's attention. He could tell that she wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. He took that as a sign to keep going.

"At the end of the day, you're glad that you passed on the chance to dance in New York. But, sometimes, when you don't realize it, you get this wistful look on your face. That look means you wonder how life would have been different if you had picked the other option."

He swallowed, feeling his stomach clench again. "You miss your dad more than you let on. Once in a while, you re-read the old letters that you two exchanged. Sometimes you cry, other times you laugh."

And finally, "You have six different smiles."

Casey appeared taken aback by his statement. "I – what?"

"You have six smiles," Derek reiterated. He raised his fingers to tick off each one. "You have a smile for the times when something really makes you laugh. You have another one when you laugh out of politeness. There's one when you make plans, organize things, and excel in school because you're a Keener and you love doing all those things. Of course, we can't forget the smile when you know you've gotten your way because you're a princess and princesses usually have their demands met. And then there's a smile for when you're uncomfortable but don't know how else to react. Your last smile you reserve for close friends and family."

A beat of silence passed before Casey countered, "You're wrong."

A look of complete disbelief zipped across Derek's face.

"No, I'm not. I know you, Casey. I'm right about everything," he argued, feeling his frustration rise.

Casey shook her head, frowning. Her eyes, however, gave her away, for there was a tiny glimmer of amusement in them.

"I have seven smiles, not six."

"You – what?"

She sighed. For the first time that night, she appeared just as exhausted as he felt.

"I never let you see the seventh one. Well, at least I try not to let you see it. Sometimes, it slips out before I can stop it. And when that happens, your eyes narrow like you're trying to figure out what it means, but I distract you so that you can forget it."

Apparently, the only word in his vocabulary at the moment was, "What?"

Casey moved into his personal space, positioning herself so that they were chest-to-chest. The sudden, heavy aroma of apples and jasmine invaded his senses. He couldn't think when she was this close. Fuck, he couldn't breathe with her this close.

"If you really looked at me for six years, you would have noticed that I was looking at you, too." She initiated searing direct eye-contact then, and he couldn't help but shiver under her gaze.

"Since our first meeting, we've operated under Newton's Third Law of Motion," she continued a second later, as if that explained everything.

At the mention Newton's Law, he vaguely recalled learning that principle for the Physics exam he had to make up in summer school. Of course, it had been a while, so he couldn't remember any details.

At his look of confusion, she clarified, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. It's not a perfect metaphor for us, but I still think it works." She paused briefly before launching into another thought.

Her voice wavered as she spoke. "The seventh smile…it's only for you, Derek. It's the one I have after you walk away, usually when we've finished talking or fighting or just hanging out. It's the one I have after I've realized you've done something so ridiculously sweet for me. It's the one that I've kept hidden all these years because I didn't want you to see it. Because if you really saw it…well then, you'd eventually know."

He genuinely didn't know what she meant, so he wasn't playing dumb when he said, "Know what?"

It was her turn to swallow nervously. "Derek, it's –"

"Yeah?"

"It's not the same difference," she murmured, instantly pulling them into the dredges of that conversation. "It never has been. I was just scared because I didn't know how to cope with my feelings then, so I said the first thing I could think of."

"Your feelings?" Derek asked, holding his breath.

She nodded, but didn't directly answer his question.

"I never told you the real reason why Evan and I broke up," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It was mutual, but only because we both realized that it was never going to work. We…were in different places."

With his head spinning, stomach twisting, and heart pounding, Derek managed to rasp out, "What?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, avoiding Derek's steady, unwavering gaze.

"Do you remember that night in September? I came home crying and you took care of me."

Of course he did. That night was burned into his memory, no matter how much he tried to forget it.

Five months ago, in the early days of their third year, he had the roughest, most physically taxing hockey practice of his life. After surviving that hellish session, all he wanted to do was spend some quality time on the couch, scarf down a whole extra-large pizza, and chug a few beers. Just as he settled down for a night of relaxation, she had shown up, a waterfall of tears running down her face. Before he could stop himself, he pulled her inside of the apartment and held her silently into the wee hours of the morning as she cried into his chest.

They didn't talk about it until the next morning, when she was able to coherently form words. His knee-jerk reaction was to run as far away as possible, but she just looked so forlorn that he didn't have the heart to abandon her. So, he stayed where he was and listened to the whole story (minus the reason for the break-up).

They had had many turning points in their relationship, but that proved to be one of the most significant ones. They acknowledged it, but never dared to speak of it. Well, until now.

"Yes," he muttered, shaking himself out of his trip down memory lane.

She took a ragged breath, still with her eyes closed. "That night…Evan told me he loved me. He was the first guy I dated to have said those words. It should have been a dream come true, but it wasn't. I…couldn't say it back." She paused to swallow before choking out, "I came home crying, not because I wasn't with Evan anymore, but because the truth of why the break-up happened was so terrifying. And then I saw you at home…and I cried harder because the truth never seemed so real before." There was one more pause before the words escaped her mouth in a rush, "I…couldn't love him because…because…he wasn't you."

If Derek's heart had pounded before, that was absolutely nothing compared to now. He was certain that at any moment, his heart was going to literally burst out of his chest and flop around on the floor.

"Me?" he wheezed, his mouth falling open.

Apparently he had said the wrong thing, for her eyes flew open to stare right at him, down to the deepest parts of his soul.

"Do you have to be so oblivious?" she growled, reaching out to shove his chest, like she had done so many times before. "Why is it so hard for you to understand that you've held my interest from the minute you opened your damn mouth and uttered the first of many smart-ass comments? God knows I've tried to ignore what I feel, but I fucking can't, okay? It's always been you and it will always be you, Derek."

He wasn't sure what his face was doing, but if he had to guess, he probably looked completely gob smacked. He certainly felt that way. His brain couldn't catch up with her words, so he stared at her uncomprehendingly, saying nothing.

Her ocean eyes raged, flashing dangerously. He'd never seen such fire in her eyes, and he'd looked into her eyes plenty of times.

She never broke eye contact as she continued to chew him out.

"You can't just walk in here and tell me all of things you've noticed about me!" she screeched, her thunderous voice making him flinch slightly. "What kind of a person does that?! How do you expect me to react when you…when you've said everything I've ever wanted?!" She shoved him again, and this time with enough force that his back slammed into the front door.

The action seemed to shake him out of his frozen state.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you do that?!" he shouted at her, his earlier nerves disappearing. In their place was the familiar pull of tension so thick that it could be sliced with a knife.

"I'm don't know what to do with myself because I'm feeling a million things at once, thanks to you!" she yelled in response.

Derek wanted to slap himself – were they really having a shouting match about feelings? Then again, he shouldn't have been surprised – they could turn just about anything into an argument.

Immature, high school-Derek would have kept up this ridiculous charade all night, but lovelorn, wary university-Derek was too fucking exhausted to do that. He needed to deescalate this now.

"Casey," he called to her quietly, calmly. Reaching down, he carefully placed his hands on her shoulders, urging her to look at him. When her eyes met his, he said, "You've thrown a lot of words at me tonight. Can you just tell me, in simple terms, what you're feeling?"

He watched the fight drain from her for the second time that night.

Leaning forward to press her face against his shoulder, she mumbled, "I love you."

Instinctively, he wound his arms around her and held her tightly. His heart slammed in his chest at her words, but he steeled himself to utter the words that had been trapped in his mind and stuck in his throat for so long.

"I love you. I'm yours, Casey. Have been since we were fifteen."

She released herself from his hold, only to stare at him in wonder. A second emotion swirled in her eyes, one that resembled hope.

"You really mean that? This isn't some…ploy to humiliate me, is it?"

He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his lips. "No, Princess. I'm being real here."

In an unusual turn of events, Casey didn't have a smart reply. All she said was, "Good."

Derek raised an eyebrow, surprised that she didn't have a dissertation prepared to recite to him about what this all could mean for them.

So, he took the plunge instead.

With another smirk, he repeated his words from years ago, "You and me – it has to happen. You good with that?"

She nodded, delight dancing in those blue eyes he loved so much.

"Awesome. Now will let me kiss you?"

She lightly punched his arm, smiling while she did so.

"Ask me nicely."

He groaned, but acquiesced nonetheless.

"Please?"

Her smile turned wicked. "Yes."

As soon as that beautiful word slipped from her mouth, he wasted no time. He bent down at the same time that she reached up. Their lips met in the middle.

Normally, Derek was disgusted and mortified by mushy descriptions of first kisses, but just his once, he'd allow himself to go there. To him, if the world completely crumbled around them in that moment, he wouldn't have cared in the slightest, for he was in a world of his own with the love of his life in his arms.

It was the best goddamn kiss of his life.

It was sweet, it was fire, it was passion, it was sin, it was lust, it was love.

It was everything.

In the future, when Derek re-told this story, he refused to admit that literal fireworks exploded in his head. But, in that mental drawer, just for Casey, he filed this information away for later.

When they finally broke apart for air, he gently cradled the side of her face in his hand, running his thumb down her cheek.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he admitted quietly.

"Me, too," she whispered, leaning in to touch her forehead to his. "Thank you for the lovely flowers, by the way. You're right – they really are my favorite."

Just as he was about to respond, his stomach chose to make itself present. A loud, thunderous rumble sounded, interrupting their moment. Typically, he'd laugh and follow it up with some gross comment, but instead of doing that, his cheeks flushed.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sheepishly said, "I didn't have dinner, so I'm starving."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Why didn't you eat?"

He shrugged. "I told you the date didn't go according to plan. Silvia realized what was up with me, we ditched dinner, and went for a walk instead. She made me spill my guts about you and then helped me devise OPERATION FEELINGS."

A giggle escaped Casey's throat, while her eyes shined with unadulterated mirth.

"What in the world is OPERATION FEELINGS?"

The flush on Derek's cheeks deepened. A lie was on the tip of his tongue, but he let it go. Now was not the time to lie to her, not after he'd just told her the truth of his feelings.

"You're obsessed with chivalry and all that romantic crap, so I thought I'd give it a try for you. I had an elaborate plan and was going to tell you about my feelings in two weeks, during March Break." He paused to smirk, though there was no hint of derision or haughtiness this time. "But, you know me. I suck at following through on plans. So, I just winged the whole thing and ended up blurting out…well you know."

"I'm going to have to send Silvia a fruit basket or something," Casey murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. "She must be a miracle worker, if she was able to force you to talk about your feelings."

"She's a really good friend," Derek answered, his smirk smoothing out into a smile. "I have to thank her, too, because it got us here."

"It did. And as far as declarations of love go…yours was pretty perfect. I don't need romance and grandeur, not when I have you. I just need you to be your typical frustrating, annoying, goofy, and lovable self." She gave him a smile – the elusive seventh one, which was more stunning than anything he'd ever seen in his life – and nudged him toward the pizza box. "Grab the box and meet me on the couch. I'll go put Taxi Driver in the DVD player."

This was so unlike her. He stared at her slack-jawed.

"What, no long-winded lecture on what this means for us now? No Space Case freak-out? You never make things easy, so what gives?"

It was her turn to smirk at him. "Oh, you're not off the hook, Der-ek. We're going to talk about everything tomorrow, but tonight, I just want to watch a movie with my boyfriend."

Boyfriend.

He never thought he'd have the chance to be the boyfriend in Casey's life, but now here he was.

Someday, he knew he wanted to turn that title into something more, like fiancé or husband, but he didn't want to get ahead of himself. After all, what was life without some spontaneity and flying by the seat of one's pants?

He was certain that an ooey, gooey smile spread across lips, but he was too far gone to care.

"Okay," he replied, turning away to grab the pizza box off the table and a beer from the fridge.

True to her word, Casey had switched the movie to Taxi Driver, the opening scene frozen on the screen. She hit the play button on the remote, gesturing for him to sit.

As soon as he settled in his spot, she curled herself around him, laying her head on his chest. He glanced at her, only to find her looking back at him with a very content expression on her face.

"This apartment doesn't need a cat. I've already got you for that," he grumbled, shoving a slice of pizza in his mouth.

To prove his point, she hummed, which sounded awfully like a purr. Nuzzling her nose against the base of his throat, she pressed a kiss there.

"An affectionate cat, apparently," he chuckled around his mouthful of pizza.

They watched the movie in companionable silence with the occasional kiss here and there. Everything was perfect…except for one thing.

"You're quiet," Derek observed, after polishing off the rest of the pizza and downing his beer. "Where's my Princess who never shuts up?"

Casey straightened from her slouched position and shrugged.

"You said it was annoying when I talk during movies, so I'm letting you enjoy this one in peace," she explained.

"Case," Derek sighed, pulling her to him and tucking her head underneath his chin. "Just because I find your habit a little frustrating doesn't mean I want you to stop doing it. I'm not Trevor, or Max, or Truman, or even Evan. I don't expect you to ever change for me, and I don't want you to, either. Your quirks are one of the many reasons why I fell in love you."

"I stand by my earlier statement," Casey answered, a soft huff of laughter leaving her. "I don't need textbook romance – not when I have you, who's says things that are a hundred times more romantic than any of those fictional guys."

Derek laughed. "I aim to please, Princess."

They turned their attention back to the screen. As Derek absentmindedly ran gentle fingers through Casey's hair, he thought about all of the details he had collected throughout the years. Each and every one of them had been safely stored in his Casey drawer.

Now that they were about to embark on new territory, he couldn't wait to see what other things would eventually make their way into that drawer.

---

2 Months Later…

"It's a good thing that Lakeside serves brunch until 3:00," Derek commented on a bright and warm Sunday in late May. One of his hands clutched the Prince's steering wheel, while the other was intertwined with Casey's hand.

Casey rolled her eyes, though the action was purely out of fondness. "We could have been there a lot earlier if we had skipped the third round of sex. I mean, really, Derek? Last night wasn't enough for you?"

"Hey," Derek scoffed, offended. "It's not my fault I'm insatiable and can barely contain myself around a gorgeous girl." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Not to mention a very flexible girl. How the hell can you even get your body into those positions? Seriously, have you been studying the Kama Sutra?"

"Der-ek!" Casey shouted, clearly scandalized. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "What we do in the bedroom stays in there, got it?!"

Her reaction, which he fully predicted, made him laugh uproariously. "Got it, Princess."

She huffed, turning away from him to pout.

"Oh, c'mon. You know that sex was only a part of the reason why we were late to brunch. You insisted we needed to stop at the store to pick up more cat food." He wrinkled his nose. "Your cat eats more than I do, and that's saying something!"

"Don't you mean our cat?" Casey shot back, angling her body so that it was close to him again.

"No, no, no. Your cat. You named him, he's yours."

"You brought him home, so he's yours, too."

He sighed. She had a point. Not that he'd tell her, of course.

A couple of weeks after they started dating, he stopped by the animal shelter after one of his classes. Luckily, the cat with the reddish-brown fur and copper eyes was still there. As soon as he stepped through their front door, pet carrier in hand, Casey launched herself at him, attacking him in kisses before hauling the new cat off to play with him.

"Whatever," he muttered, eyes focusing on the road, rather than glancing over to look at her (he knew she'd have a smug smile on her face).

"Hey, you know you like Darcy. He's so much like you, it's funny."

Oh, yeah. Casey named the little hellion Darcy. ("Derek, he's troublesome and grumpy on the outside, but is really sweet on the inside – just like Mr. Darcy and you!")

"I plead the Fifth," Derek answered automatically, flipping the sun visor down. He didn't care that the Fifth Amendment was apart of the U.S. Constitution; that was beside the point. He just didn't feel like discussing the matter any more than he had to.

Casey giggled before a look of confusion crossed her face. "Why are you turning down this road? I thought we were heading back to the apartment."

"Need to make a quick stop first," Derek said vaguely.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but otherwise remained silent. A few minutes later, Derek parked the vehicle in front of a familiar building.

"What are we doing at Smith's Flowers?" Casey asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Derek grinned mischievously. "Well, I promised Oliver that if things worked out with the girl that I bought the daisies for, I'd bring her in to meet him. A deal's a deal, so here we are."

"Oh, Derek," Casey mumbled affectionately, a beautiful blush blooming across her cheeks.

Taking her hand in his, he led the way into the flower shop.

As usual, Oliver was near the counter. As soon as the shop owner caught sight of Derek, his eyes lit with recognition.

"Derek! Good to see you, lad!" he called before glancing at Casey, noticing that their hands were interlocked.

When the pair approached him, Oliver greeted politely, "And hello to you, too, Casey." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I should have known you'd be the gal that Derek was chasing after. You've stared longingly at those daises ever since you wandered in at beginning of the school year."

"Well," Derek cut in, raising their linked hands. "This one appreciates flowers, so I guess I'm going to be in here more often. I hope you receive a frequent shipment of those daises because I'm going to need plenty of them for dates, anniversaries, holidays, and probably for apologies for any future mistakes I make." That mischievous grin returned to his lips.

"Happy to have you," Oliver replied, smiling warmly. "Would you like purchase a vase of daisies today?"

Derek nodded, nudging Casey. He tilted his head to the direction of the vases, all lined up on a shelf a few meters away.

"Go pick one out," he whispered.

"Thank you, Der," she murmured, pecking him on the cheek before leaving his side to carefully examine each vase.

Left alone with Derek, Oliver casually leaned against the counter and commented, "I take it that things worked out?"

"They did. We've been together since that night."

Oliver proudly clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew you'd figure it out. You got yourself a great gal, Derek. She's a smart one; the first time she came in here, she rattled off facts about flowers that even I didn't know, and I've been in this business for twenty-five years."

Derek rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. "That's my Casey."

In that moment, Casey looked up, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones.

She mouthed, I love you to him.

His smile only grew. That was another thing about her – now that they had gotten to this point, she always found ways to express her love to him. And he did the same for her. They often turned it into a competition, but unlike the past, these situations were always win-win.

After all, it was all about the little things.

---

Author's Note (Part 2):

Thank you for making it all the way to the end! The Little Things became a larger project than I had originally anticipated. Brevity has never been my friend, so it's not that surprising that this story is over 17,000 words – whoops!

I do have some good news to share: I'm not ready to say goodbye to the versions of Derek and Casey I crafted for this story, so I'm planning on a sequel that will detail Casey's thoughts before, during, and after Derek's date with Silvia (you'll get to see Casey and Derek's relationship unfold over the three years they've been at Queen's). The working title for it is Five Steps. I'm not sure when that it will be posted, but you'll be able to find it here eventually.

In the meantime, if you have a moment, I'd love to hear from you! Please drop me a comment and let me know your thoughts. Comments literally make my day :)