willow | d. hale [on hold]

16 | towel

"Or call the police," he added, giving her a pointed look.

It had only been a handful of days since the rave, and Willow had yet to go to the police about Matt. With the kanima on the loose, they being very close to finding out who was controlling it, Allison's mother being bitten and the inevitable fallout of that, and Stiles' father being put on leave as the sheriff, Willow thought it was best to wait. It was Spring Break, and she wouldn't have to see Matt every day at school.

Once the full moon and Lydia's party were behind them, Willow agreed to let Allison take her to the station to tell them what she saw. Hopefully, it'd be enough probable cause to search the rest of Matt's cameras and his computer.

"You hate the police," Willow told Derek, a small smile on her lips. "You literally never want them involved in anything."

"Well, you won't let me rip his throat out, so him going to jail is the next best thing," he said, crossing his arms.

Willow sighed and rolled on her back to look at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars were covering it. On nights she couldn't sleep well, Derek would take her hand in his, point it at the stars, and count them with her — there were eighty-seven, and she was usually asleep with her head on his chest before they got to the last one.

"Can we... not talk about him again? Please?" she asked quietly.

"Of course. What time do you need to be at Lydia's?" he asked, propping his feet on the desk as he leaned back in the chair. If Willow hadn't been looking at the ceiling, she'd have seen and fussed at him until he stopped.

"Way too early," she said, laughing. "But it's tradition, and she'll do the same for my birthday. We spend the whole day decorating the house before picking out all our outfit changes. We'll go to Allison's house to bring her a dress too."

"You're gonna have wardrobe changes?" he asked, chuckling.

"Have you met Lydia?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him. "Feet!"

Derek laughed heartily as she flung a stuffed strawberry pillow at him before removing his feet from the furniture.

"You'll probably be free from babysitting duty by nine-thirty tomorrow morning," she told him.

"It's not babysitting," Derek said with a frown. He got up and moved to the bed, leaning over Willow's face so that she could see how serious he was. "Watching over you is the most important thing — more important than Jackson, than the pack. Everything."

"I shouldn't be more important than your pack," she told him softly.

"Well, you are. And you always will be," he told her, sounding so sure — like it was just a fact of the universe. "I'm never going to let power or my ego or some stupid vendetta distract me from what matters again. Even if I have ruined everything — even if I have lost you."

"You think you've lost me?" Willow couldn't stop from asking, her voice barely above a whisper.

Derek brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Haven't I?"

Willow's eyes flicked to his lips that were suddenly so close. So soft and inviting. She felt her head come up off the bed as she leaned up, wanting to kiss him more than she wanted anything in the world.

"Hey, Wills!" Warren called, interrupting any moment that might of happened. "Scrib is trying to get in your room."

"Of course, he is," Derek muttered, bitter as ever about the cat.

Willow's cheeks were red as she rolled off the bed and she didn't glance back at Derek as she walked to her door. As soon as it was cracked, the black cat let himself in, brushing up against Willow's legs as he passed.