It had been a week since the Alpha made an appearance in Stiles' room, and honestly, his human brain couldn't function properly anymore. He knew it was stupid, being so upset by such a little thing. Like, who cares if Derek didn't come in his room from his opened window? It wasn't like he was keeping it open on purpose. Or was he? Yeah, okay, he was. But hey, it wasn't like Derek used to come often in his room before a week ago. So maybe he just had to wait a little more? Not like waiting was his forte. Definitely wasn't. Actually, not a lot of things were Stiles' forte, except maybe talking too much. Which he, let's be honest, totally succeeded in. And how he always ended up on a much different subject as he kept on babbling on and on, like this right now. And everything was definitely much more different. He thought he was in love with Lydia. And now he liked Derek. Yeah, he liked him. Or was starting to anyway. Oh well, sue me, he thought to himself, placing his elbows on his thighs and his hands on his face. He let out a groan, a groan that sounded so girly next to Derek's growl. Yes, Derek let out actual growls. And Stiles couldn't tell if it was the sexiest sound ever or if it was just something way too terrifying.

But anyway, he had to take his mind off of the big bad Alpha, right? It wasn't like just sitting there in his bedroom and he would feel better. At all. It made him kind of sad that his dad was always working so much. He didn't know if it was good or not. His dad wasn't getting any younger, and the fact that he knew about werewolves was definitely not helping. He was probably even more worried about Stiles than ever before. And Stiles kinda felt bad about it. He loved his dad so much, he was his only family left and God knows how family is important nowadays. And God definitely knows how much he missed his mother.

"Come on, Stiles, quit staring at strangers like that. You know everyone is not as kind as we are," his mother often reminded him softly when he was starting to look at strangers too much. Mostly boys. And like Scott, his mother knew that Stiles couldn't be straight. And she couldn't be happier. She loved him with all her heart, all her sick heart. It took her a while before having the guts to tell her dear husband that she had a sickness. She didn't want him to be hurt. And most of all, she didn't want her son to grow up without a female figure. So she kept it all to herself as if to push it all away, like something so big could just disappear if we didn't give it much attention. Sadly, that was not how things worked, and it wasn't long after that Stiles' mother had to be hospitalized, while the young boy he was back then couldn't quite understand what was happening to his beautiful mother. The one person he thought invincible, immortal, even.

When Stiles slowly began to feel tears threatening to flow, he took a deep breath as his father showed him to when he was starting to think about his mother, the nostalgia taking over him, or when he was about to have a panick attack, which he haven't got in a while now.

He didn't quite understand how the following events happened, but suddenly he had arms around his waist, holding him tighlty as if he was just going to disappear the way his memories with his mother were starting to slowly but surely fade away. He was scared he'd forget about it all, it was so scary. He didn't want to forget, it would be so irrespectful. How could you not remember all the times you've spent with your mother as a child? And maybe the person holding him could feel it, but the grip around him tightened, and that's when tears started to roll down his cheeks. These pink cheeks that had the most beautiful moles Derek had ever seen. And whenever he saw the ones on his face, he couldn't help but think that maybe he could see the ones on the rest of his body, and maybe, just maybe, Stiles would let him play connect the dots with them, touching them with his fingertips. Fingertips that didn't even deserved to touch one bit of the teenager, but somehow he couldn't bring himself not to. He was so intoxicating. Every single little things about him were.

As Stiles was slowly coming back to himself, the tears now stopping, he took more time to look at the firm arms holding him. And without a doubt, they were Derek's.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles managed to let out, but only as a weak whisper. But with the werewolf's ears, he didn't need to be louder.

The question held in the air but no sounds were coming out of the Alpha's mouth. It wasn't like he had a good answer anyway. He couldn't just tell Stiles that he was here because there hadn't been a day where he wouldn't be just sitting on his roof, waiting for an opportunity to come in.

"I was walking by and I heard your heartbeats. Thought you were maybe having a panick attack... again," the other man lied.

Stiles didn't understand why Derek added the word 'again' at the end of his sentence. And how he waiting a second or two before adding it. The human was entirely sure that he never told Derek about it. Inevitably, Scott knew. But why would he go around telling Derek? That didn't make any sense. So Stiles asked about it.

"How do you know that, Derek? How do you know I used to have panick attacks?" Stiles murmured once again, he felt like his voice was just going to give in at any moments. He felt as if Derek knew a lot more about him than he thought. He didn't know if it made him happy or scared, scared that someone could know so much about him, his past. "I just know," Derek's short reply said. But how? Stiles wanted to ask again. But instead he stayed quiet, because it was probably the best thing to do for now. Just let things happen by their own or else Derek might just leave again, Stiles told himself.

"Listen, Stiles," Derek's words were like a soft murmur in his ear, it was deep, husky, but still soft. And so he did, he listened. Stiles wasn't sure if he was supposed to turn his face a little on the side, to catch a glimpse of Derek's expression, Derek's eyes. He loved his eyes. He didn't know it was normal to love someone's eyes so much- "I care about you," Derek added, and Stiles' mind stopped working at this very moment. He swallowed hard, tears threatening to come back. He had cried once in front of Derek and a second time was out of question. He wasn't that weak. And he didn't want the werewolf to see that it was him who made him weak at this moment. "Oh," Stiles said, the usally so talkative one, now was silent, wordless. "It's weird that you're so silent, I'm not even talking a lot but it feels like so much when you're just so quiet," Derek murmured against Stiles' ear, taking the initivative to place a soft kiss on his ear after he did so.

"I care about you too," Stiles sobbed, unable to keep it all inside of him this time. And he turned around, almost chocking Derek as he wrapped his arms tightly around the older man's neck. He was happy. Stiles felt happy. For the first time in a very very long time.

Well this took a more... serious route.
I wasn't planning on it, really, but it just happened, so let it be.
Once again, I'd like some reviews. I know this is short again, I'm so sorry.
I give you all the permission to punch me in the face. Gently.

I'm sorry if this is... too lovey dovey-ish. BUT HEY, every fanfic gotta have its serious moment, right?
... Right, guys? Ugh.