Re: Edge of the picnic. Start of picnic.
Derek nodded, lightly rubbed Stiles' cheek with his fingers and then dropped his head, forehead against Stiles, eyes slipping shut as his arms went around his slave snugly, an unabashedly affectionate embrace. "That's not me, Stiles," he said, firmly. "I'm here. I'm alive. And I'm not leaving you."