Stiles watched as Derek finished the bottle, tilting his head back to drain it. His gaze flicked over Derek's Adam's apple as it bobbed and Stiles swallowed once, himself. Derek agreed to his plan and laid back against his bed and Stiles decided that, in that moment, he needed to go sit down and finish reading before he just stood there and stared at Derek.
So he did just that. He crossed the room, flopping back down on the couch, opening the book back up to the page he was on. Stiles started the poem over, knowing it was one of the ones that Derek really liked. He read slowly, doing his best to not look over at Derek between stanzas. He finished the book after a few minutes. It was overwhelming, definitely. Stiles set the book on the coffee table, then leaned back against the couch. "Damn," he muttered, almost in shock.
Stiles lifted his hands to scrub at his face, and glanced over to Derek's desk, where there were several stacks of other books. He needed a bookshelf, Stiles decided. Once they were moved in, he'd see if he could find an inexpensive one to get for Derek. Because stacks of books on the floor and tables worried him. He'd feel horrible if he accidentally kicked one over or bumped it with his elbow.