A/n: Just a short one-shot—not sure if it'll end up as more. Thoughts are appreciated.

She hated that she was wrong.

She hated even more that he was right.

She lay awake, replaying the day's events in her mind. It's not like it was really even that big of a deal. He surely wasn't losing any sleep over the matter. She turned over, shifting so she could see the time. The bright light of the numbers was just as harsh as it had been five minutes before. Four AM, it read.

Maybe she could write him a letter. She was good at letters. She found herself to be very articulate on paper. Of course, she was very articulate in her speech as well, but she always wrote it down before hand.

Sighing, she rose from the bed, deciding that she might as well be productive. Grabbing a spiral notebook and a pen from her desk, she sat down and began to write.

She couldn't really remember how the entire thing had started. They'd been fighting, as usual, but something was different. She remembered talking to Paul earlier, detailing the fight they'd had at breakfast. Something about the smell of her hair and him being an inconsiderate ass. It always came back to the fact that he was an inconsiderate ass.

He'd said something about her being just as bad, which she really didn't understand. No one was just as bad. He was a selfish jerk who only thought about himself. She helped others and did nice things and was generally a very pleasant person. She wasn't selfish.

The light tap on her door startled her away from her musings. She looked up to see him slowly peering around the door, looking slightly worn. He wore only a pair of pajama bottoms and his hair seemed to be sticking out in every direction. He rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly before speaking.

"I couldn't sleep. Your light was on."

She put down her pen and looked at him, eyes wide, signaling him that he needed to explain further.

"I just… I don't know, forget it," he said as he turned to leave.

She knew this was the part where she was supposed to swallow her pride and speak up. She'd read enough books and watched enough movies to know that it was her turn now. But she still couldn't bring herself to stop him.

"Goodnight, Derek," she said quietly as he softly closed her bedroom door.

She hated that she was wrong. She hated even more that he was right.