The adrenaline was still pumping away to high glory in Derek's system as his brain started to catch up to the preceding events. He had just knocked Meredith Fielding, recent Hogwarts, Hufflepuff graduate out of the way of a speeding truck, which led to them laying the middle of road through which much Muggle traffic passed.
They needed to move.
He unceremoniously gathered her up, half-carrying and half-dragging her (Hey, he insisted, it was completely her own call to decide if she wanted to walk) to the other side of the road she'd been so eager to cross before the cars down the street started looming closer. Setting her down, just as unceremoniously, he waited for his heart to subside in its racing before giving her a good piece of his mind. When it showed no indication of slowing, he elected to tear into her anyway.
"What the hell were you thinking, just charging off into traffic like that? What are you even doing in this part of London?" Despite the fact that Meredith struck him as looking shaken, and possibly even abashed for her blunder, the testosterone-charged, adrenaline-pumped Derek Dobbs could pay no attention to finer details as those. "Say I hadn't been here—no, just too slow--do you know what would have happened? I just—"
He broke off mid-sentence with a frustrated sigh and a fist slamming into the light pole beside them. There was this hero-complex he was starting to develop, and the brakes needed to be applied firmly in that respect—car metaphors aside. But this girl had just been pulled out of the street, and she probably knew how close she was cutting it; why did she need it reiterated by him?
"Sorry," Derek muttered, running his hand over his face, closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. "Sorry, I just—are you all right? I must have knocked you pretty hard… maybe I should check for broken bones, or something?"
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