Work Text:
Autumn:
When Derek first met him (rather, collided with; as the young man had turned around suddenly, without notice). The strongest reminder remaining of the encounter, was how colourful and warm his eyes were; they felt like laying on the ground, leaves falling one by one from a tree around him, rain drizzling from above, sunlight shining through ever moving clouds.
Back then, Derek didn’t know what it meant when he smiled.
Winter:
During the cold, most people would bundle up and hide away with their loved ones; hide from the chill that was knocking to bring everyone down. Within the city, the library front grass, stained with patches of sunlight all around, despite the icy breeze, they sat together, but not Together.
The young man pulled out a sketch book and an array of watercolour paints; delicately moving lines across the page to create a form. A figure. Derek wouldn’t move to hazard a glance again, only to turn the pages of his book, not wanting the moment to end.
It was only when the sprinkling rain became a pour of ice, that Derek noticed a pale piece of paper under his bag, a pale painting of himself, and a name- ‘Stiles’.
Spring:
Though the flowers were blooming, it had never occurred to Derek that he would too.
On the eve of the spring and throughout the remaining months he discovered what it was like to become a Person of Noteworthiness. Though no longer as fragile as a flower in strength and body, his mind was still warped from the springs of years past.
His mind couldn’t comprehend the attention. So he dug it out on his skin. Never anywhere anyone would see. X marks the spot.
It was the last day of Spring when he opened a drawer to find the painting. He cried until there were marks on the paper. His mother holding him close as she whispered it wasn’t too late to find him. It wasn’t too late to help himself.
Summer:
The fourth time they met (once more, a literal running into each other. Derek faking an intense interest of his phone, playing dumb to looks, or where he was going. Stiles apologised profusely, although Derek had been the one at fault) Stiles discovered he had a preference towards people, like himself, who were so slight in their minds that they would fade the next day were it not for their bodies, weak, though standing tall, and never forfeiting the Fight for Existence.
Though Derek was slight in mind, he wasn’t fully absent; still attempting to keep afloat in an ocean of insecurities. Knowing the struggle of someone so similar, Derek looked up, a small smile forming.
“Next time you smile for me, I hope to see it in your eyes” Stiles said as he held out a hand; a marked arm. Derek's hand hadn't felt so warm in years.
Autumn:
“If a year could pass without so much as a single change, then where would anyone be in their lives?” Stiles asked as they were curled under the covers; perfectly marred bodies tangled together.
“They would be in the same place they were. Never moving from the monotonous drone of nothing. Never smiling, never laughing, and never existing outside of what they see," Derek mused, his eyes closed as he savored their togetherness. Grateful for the warmth surrounding them.
“I’m glad you learned how to smile,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s heart.