Derek nodded a little when Stiles spoke. "Endings are never happy, because it's not an ending until someone's dead. It's just a pause, until more bad things happen." He knew better than to consider a brief moment of happiness as a 'happy ending' because there was no such thing. Even if he fell in love, got married, had children, eventually the person you loved died and then it was the end. Nothing happy came from someone you loved dying, no matter what any poet or author or songwriter ever tried to say to the contrary.
He rolled his eyes at Stiles' comment, sighing at him. "Shut up." He shook his head a little, watching Stiles come over with the book and setting aside the bottle in his hands, reaching to bring the book closer to him. He read thatpoem over and by the fourth stanza he felt something in the pit of his stomach, like fear but not quite, making him nauseous but not sick, and everything felt a little more sharp in the world around him.
The seventh stanza, the last one, made him feel similarly and Derek lifted his green eyes to find Stiles' face, unable to hide the thousand questions he was implicitly not asking. "I can understand why. It's intense, hm?" He let the book go so Stiles could take it back and held his gaze, not quite sure what else to say, feeling like the air was thick around them, cloying and almost unbreathable, like it felt for a brief moment in the elevator when Stiles had been about to punch him to wake him up, when he still had hold of the teenager's wrist and everything was bathed in florescent lighting.