Hunger

Chapter Five

Stiles

We were twenty minutes away from the church where everything went down last time we came to Mexico. We had no clue if Scott and the others would be there, but that's where we had to start. It's the only place we could think of looking.

"Are you feeling better?" Derek asked, taking a quick glance at me.

Ever since he rescued me -for the second time- he had been repeatedly asking me if I felt better. The answer was always, "a little I guess." Just like it was the answer this time.

"You've been saying that since we started driving," he observed. "Do you still feel weak?"

I nodded slightly, tapping my fingers against my leg. "Yeah, a little. I got electrocuted like fifteen times. It didn't feel good," I replied. I rested my head against the window, but it was uncomfortable. Being in the car this long was uncomfortable. Having Derek sitting beside me still half naked was uncomfortable. He didn't put a shirt on after fighting those guys, and he was still shirtless.

Ever since my dream, I'd felt extremely awkward around Derek. It's not like we did anything dirty in my dream, but we were still somewhat intimate.

In the dream, Derek had just been a werewolf, so he was completely naked. He was in my room, and I offered him a blanket. He sat down beside me, softly touched my face, and smiled. He didn't say anything except my name, which he said with his lips against my ear. While he whispered in my ear, my finger traced the tattoo on his back. The Derek in my dream was going to say something else, but the real Derek woke me up.

It was a very confusing dream. Trust me, I didn't like it. I just preferred it over the nightmare. The nightmare was terrifying, and I hated it. The Derek dream was terrifying on a different, sweeter level.

"We're almost there," Derek stated. "Five minutes. Are you ready?" He shifted in his seat, almost like he was the nervous one here. Except he had werewolf strength and I had wimpy noodle arms. I should be the nervous one. I was nervous, but not that much. 

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "Where's my bat?" A stupid question really because what would I be able to do with my bat? I'd get scared and maybe swing, probably miss and end up dead. That's just how my life works. 

Derek chuckled softly. "It's in the back." He took one hand off the wheel and pushed down his sun visor to block out the brightness. I didn't try to watch when his teeth caught his bottom lip and held it there, but his face was distracting. It always has been. 

"What's so funny, Derek?" I teased as I grabbed my weapon of choice and held it close to my chest. "You think there's something wrong with my bat?" I tried sounding serious, but I was terrible at acting. Derek knew that though. 

Derek shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to the road. "I think there's something wrong with you," he admitted, taking one quick glance at my grumpy face. I could tell he was amused by me, which was like a compliment, so it's cool.

"Ouch," I replied loudly and very sarcastically, swinging and purposely missing his face. All I got in return was those damn eyebrows, which were intimidating and attractive, but they were up and he was giving that look and I was melting.