Meltdown [Derek Hale]

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Okay, what happens if the kanima doesn't have a master?" Julie asked, as she paced back and forth in the old Hale house. It was her day off, thankfully. She wasn't enjoying it how all of her other coworkers were, but instead was tired and annoyed, and stuck in a dusty, burnt down, overgrown Hale house. It had been abandoned for so long trees had fallen into it and branches were growing through.

She was overdressed for the scene, however, she was determined to make it through her unworn wardrobe. With a deep red distressed knitted dress which had long sleeves and fit her tightly and well. She'd paired it with knee-high black heeled boots, and a black double-breasted coat. She'd ditched the coat and left it hung on the banister.

"The only way I know of, to tether the bond between the kanima and a master is to kill one of them. But then whoever kills the master, becomes the master."

"Okay, so we find him a friend? Someone who won't control him and use him for bad but..."

"I don't think that's an option," Derek admitted, and she sighed before leaning against the table.

He glanced at her, his eyes trailing her whole body. She wasn't looking at anything in particular, instead she was staring out into space as she tried to think of an answer.

"I can feel you staring," she said, and he rolled his eyes as he looked away, "it's alright you can say it, you're falling for me."

He found himself smiling, as he shook his head. "You know, I'm starting to think you're actually just falling for me, and you're pushing those feelings onto me to make yourself feel better."

She looked at him with her eyes narrowed, what he said sounded smart. She didn't trust smart out of a man's mouth, especially not this particular man.

"Sporadic and chaotic," she said, and he looked at her even more confused, "that's what I was always described as throughout my childhood. It didn't help that I was being compared to people who were much older than me...I'm trying to say my mind changes a lot. I can't help it."

"So you are falling for me?"

"I'm saying you confuse me. Sometimes I really hate you and when I think about what you've done i can't stand you. But then I remember the good you've done and sometimes it takes away from that, and then I think about the fact you're not even human so I can't even technically judge you from human standards and i'm just... I'm so confused... but I'm also really tired, so that doesn't help."

"You're not very good at this," he noted, and she looked at him offended and confused.

"At what?"

"Flirting."

"I work seventy-two hours a week, Minimum. Why would I be good at flirting?" She scoffed.

He hummed in amusement, as he stepped closer to her, "so what you're telling me, is that you work so much that you don't get time to think about what you want or process anything and so -"

"Don't be all therapist to me," she scoffed, and he looked at her annoyed at being interrupted.

"You're falling for me," he said, crossing his arms. Her eyes trailed from the bulge and veins on his arm muscles, across his chest and up to his face. He was gorgeous, she would stand by that until the day she died, probably. As her eyes met his, she found him much closer than he was before. His face was mere inches away from her own.

"You seem far too happy for that," she muttered, her eyes falling to his lips.

She didn't know when he got closer, she didn't know who had moved closer. All she knew was that their lips were grazing against each other, not kissing each other, but it was supposed to be.