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“Going somewhere?”
She had been watching the planes come and go for so long that the coffee in front of her had gone cold. There had been a layover in Los Angeles that had been delayed. Rolling her shoulders, a small sigh escaped past her lips as she looked up at the man standing by her. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a shirt that complemented his tan. There was a hooded sweatshirt left open underneath his jacket. It was clear that he’d been traveling by the day old stubble on his jaw and sleepy expression on his features, the stale scent of deodorant drifting off him with the air conditioning above them.
“Depends on the time.”
There was a duffel bag over his shoulder and she checked her watch.
“I’ve got eyes on a clock that says it’s half past noon.”
She lifted her gaze back to the man and then to the list of departures. Outside, snow was falling and adding to the amount that had been collecting for days. “What about you, stranger?” The question was asked and she saw him quirk his lips in amusement. “I’m waiting on a girl, actually. Maybe you can help me find her.” He took a step back, lifting his hand to his collarbone. “She’s about this tall, with bright eyes and usually a scowl, similar to the one you’d had when I’d walked up.”
A frown played across her lips.
“I wasn’t scowling. I was in thought. I haven’t seen anyone like that.” With a sigh, she stood. Her knee gave a protesting twinge that came with sitting for too long. “Ah, that’s a shame. But you were scowling. Although, it didn’t look too bad on you.” Again, that little quirk of his lips. She looked at him with an unimpressed expression, picking up her coffee and moving to take a sip. A mild cringe came, the taste bitter as she leaned forward to toss it away in the trash.
“I hope you find who you’re looking for.” She said, stepping towards the arrival gate.
Before she got too far away, a hand stopped her and she was pushed against the nearest wall. The hand moved to curl around her throat, firm, but not painful. The man’s light colored eyes glistened. “I probably won’t, but you’ll have to do.” Over his shoulder, she could see a security guard beginning to head in their direction as his hand slipped away from her neck. Afterwards, it dropped to the curve of her hip. Even through the denim she wore, she could feel the warmth of his hand. A grin crossed his lips and he dipped his head, capturing her in a kiss.
Surprised, she let out a squeak.
The guard was almost within reach of the man before she returned the kiss. Her body melted into the man’s, the taste of mint toothpaste mixing with the bitterness of her coffee as his tongue slipped in. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed so firmly; his facial hair scraped her skin, but his lips were soft. The intimidation factor slipped away as he drew her closer, replaced with his usual demeanor. His body pressed into hers, as if they were pieces of the same puzzle. When they parted, she had a grin on her lips and the guard continued on his rounds. The man stared down at her through half lidded eyes, a whimsical expression on his features.
“You changed your hair.”
Derek mused quietly and Cordelia gave a shrug of her shoulders.
It had nearly been down her back and as dark as chocolate, but now touched her collarbone. It was the color of straw. “I needed a change if I was coming back to Beacon Hills.” He understood that. They’d both been through so much. They’d lost some and won some. He hadn’t understood why she’d needed to leave, to travel to New York again before coming back to him, but if it meant she would be there for good, he wouldn’t argue.
“You’re late.” She stated.
He’d gone and collected her bag, knowing she wouldn’t miss that little detail.
He knew her punctuality was important to her. Sometimes, he knew it was good to push her out of her need for control. “It’s been snowing. The pack has been driving me up the wall.” His arm curled around her as soon as she stepped back to his side, her hand sliding into his back pocket. “How was Ithaca?” He questioned. There was a shake of her head just before she settled into his side.
As they headed towards his Camaro, Derek didn’t think it mattered much.
She was home.
That was more important.