Gabriel had just reached for his shirt when Derek asked him to wait. Assuming there was something else he needed to do, he did as he was told, but still took the shirt back and held it in his lap, giving his hands something to do, something to hold, something to dig his nails into instead of his palm.
He doesn't distrust Derek, far from it. The man's seen him in terrible condition, at quite literally his lowest points. He's seen him breakdown, he's seen him cry, seen his temper bristle or, even more rarely, he's seen it flare.
But then he's always managed to soothe him, comfort him. Even if it just meant talking to him or not talking at all. He often goes beyond what a doctor is expected to do. And for that, Gabriel respects him immensely.
They don't know a huge amount about each other really, and yet Gabriel counts Derek as someone he's closest to. Not that that's difficult; other than Christian, he's quite alone in the world, or so it feels the majority of the time.
When Derek takes his hand, Gabriel doesn't protest. It confuses him a little, but he doesn't pull away. It feels nice, regardless of whether or not Derek means it to. When was the last time someone held his hand..? When he was a kid, maybe? He can't remember.
As Derek speaks again, Gabriel knows he should look at him. Thank him for his kind words, maybe joke them away as men tend to. But he can do none of these things. He only wants to shrink, wants to disappear. He doesn't think Derek's lying, because that's...he's not a liar. He's just...incorrect.
His scars, the souvenirs left by silver and Wolfsbane, they're not beautiful, he can't see how they could ever be construed as being so. Nothing inflicted with that much cruelty or hatred could be beautiful, how could they be? Nor is he himself. He's not ugly, not really, he knows that somehow - but he's not what Derek's describing. He's just him, he's nobody, no one.
His jaw clenches for a moment, eyes downcast, head half-bowed as though that might help the floor swallow him. But the hand under Derek's curls just a fraction, squeezing just enough to let him know he appreciates the sentiment behind the kind mistaken words.
"...You don't..you're not obliged to say things like that to me. If Christian told you to..I'm fine."
honestly neither does Gabe, this'll just make him short circuit
He doesn't distrust Derek, far from it. The man's seen him in terrible condition, at quite literally his lowest points. He's seen him breakdown, he's seen him cry, seen his temper bristle or, even more rarely, he's seen it flare.
But then he's always managed to soothe him, comfort him. Even if it just meant talking to him or not talking at all. He often goes beyond what a doctor is expected to do. And for that, Gabriel respects him immensely.
They don't know a huge amount about each other really, and yet Gabriel counts Derek as someone he's closest to. Not that that's difficult; other than Christian, he's quite alone in the world, or so it feels the majority of the time.
When Derek takes his hand, Gabriel doesn't protest. It confuses him a little, but he doesn't pull away. It feels nice, regardless of whether or not Derek means it to. When was the last time someone held his hand..? When he was a kid, maybe? He can't remember.
As Derek speaks again, Gabriel knows he should look at him. Thank him for his kind words, maybe joke them away as men tend to. But he can do none of these things. He only wants to shrink, wants to disappear. He doesn't think Derek's lying, because that's...he's not a liar. He's just...incorrect.
His scars, the souvenirs left by silver and Wolfsbane, they're not beautiful, he can't see how they could ever be construed as being so. Nothing inflicted with that much cruelty or hatred could be beautiful, how could they be? Nor is he himself. He's not ugly, not really, he knows that somehow - but he's not what Derek's describing. He's just him, he's nobody, no one.
His jaw clenches for a moment, eyes downcast, head half-bowed as though that might help the floor swallow him. But the hand under Derek's curls just a fraction, squeezing just enough to let him know he appreciates the sentiment behind the kind mistaken words.
"...You don't..you're not obliged to say things like that to me. If Christian told you to..I'm fine."