#melisaac

Since you sent me two and I was going to use the other one for Mel and Isaac anyway, I'm combining the two here. Hope you don't mind. This is set during Season 3 Ep 19, Letharia Vulpina. I've been wanting to write my take on this for a while but I haven't gotten far enough in my series so this gave me a great excuse to finally do it! (Also, yeah, this was supposed to be a drabble but drabble's are just suggestions to me at this point.) Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm + Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

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He didn't smell like Isaac. Not anymore. The hospital smells certainly didn't help but it was the marred, crawling stretch of burnt and charred skin that cut through his usual sandalwood scent ruining it all.

She forced a smile to her face to keep from crying again. He didn't like whenever she pointed out how good he smelled, or, rather, being able to identify everything he smelled like. When he switched colognes or used a different shampoo or body wash. She couldn't help it. Growing up around flowers, she could pin point any and every floral scent added to hygienic products. And she just liked the way Isaac smelled beneath it all. She knew that scent anywhere.

Her eyelids slammed shut, lines streaking across the thin skin at her efforts to block out the sight of him if only for a couple seconds. Her Isaac wasn't laid up in a bed, unmoving, head tilted to an uncomfortable angle, lips slack, cannula running along his face.

His handsome face.

The same one that, a few minutes ago, a lifetime ago, she'd spied on the other side of that pool of water stretching in the parking lot. The same one she watched painfully freeze in place as the electric currents took over his body, seizing up every muscle, pulling him down to his knees and then to his side. The same one that held his eyes, so wide and blue as the ocean, onto her as his mouth fell slack and he took one, two, staggering steps towards her.

Her breath eased out of her in a slow, stuttering sigh as she opened her eyes again. He still laid there, heart monitors beeping steadily. His chest rose and fell as if he were sleeping, somewhere on the other side of reality she couldn't reach.

Her fingers twitched in her lap. Her eyes raked the expanse of his burns, traced the line down the side of his face, to his long neck, past the shoulder of the hospital gown he'd been placed in, to the soft curve of his blackened arm lying atop of the blanket.

She always loved his hands. Loved how large they were, how his long, slender fingers stretched an curled from his fleshy palms, how the veins popped out the back, stretching tree roots racing to the base of his fingers, how they undulated and twisted as he wiggled and spun a pencil between them in his idle trances, how they could be curled and turn to stone only to soften on her cheek or held within her own.

Swallowing the lump rising in her throat, she reached for him. The blanket, stiff and starchy, scratched against her forearm; the unpleasant sensation quickly becoming and afterthought she she slipped her hand in his.

His skin didn't belong to him anymore, it wasn't cool and soft to the touch like once before. Now it sat puckered and rough, a stranger's hold on her comfort efforts. She waited for him to let out the little gasp he always uttered whenever she held his hand, waiting for him to turn his head and look at their pressed palms and then to her face with a mixture of surprise and wonder.

What if he didn't look at her like that again? What if he didn't wake up? What if...? She brought up her other hand, clasping his large one between her smaller grip.

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" she said. The steady, rhythmic beats of the machine almost matched up with her cadence. She would've appreciated the beauty in the moment if the low buzz by her ear didn't disrupt the near synchronization. "Don't...don't go where I can't go with you. I can't lose you too. Please."

Her words weakened and cracked by the end, eyes burning and itching with unshed tears lining up and waiting for deployment. She sucked in a breath—bad, bad idea, that burnt smell was overwhelming—but it helped moor her if only for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you fast enough." She tried, but everything was happening too fast: Stiles going missing, Isaac calling her to tell her to meet at Stiles' house, "seeing" Stiles trapped somewhere with something on his foot, seeing the backwards 5 in his room, "seeing" Stiles' remnants on the roof of the hospital in a manic state, stalking through the hospital following a woman who pointed her towards old medical files, reading something about dementia, and then rushing outside at the sound of the chaos, the vision disappearing.

And Kira and the electrical cord.... She had time. She had time! If only she'd unfurled her wings faster or...or tried making a jump for it. The water hadn't spilled much by that point. The cord whipped around, sparking and popping, dancing like an angry snake. Almost like it had a mind of its own. And it buzzed and hummed and fizzed, curling and unfurling, spitting sparks. Kira yelled, telling everyone to get back and Allison—

Bzzt!

Melanie jumped, eyes wide and flashing a bright violet, half expecting the monitors to start popping and showering sparks of their own when the loud buzzing landed a heavy thud in her stomach. Her heart raced and her chest heaved and she looked around, the violet easing away. Everything was the same. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Isaac still looked as if he were sleeping.

Her Isaac. The one who pushed Allison out of the way when she tried to help the paramedic.

Allison...

Melanie's teeth clenched and her shoulders bunched and her eyebrows puckered at the displeasure coursing through her. Allison. She went and ruined everything. This was her fault. If she hadn't been so stupid... Didn't she hear Kira yelling for her to stay back? If it weren't for her Isaac wouldn't have...Isaac wouldn't be.

Her fingers dug into Isaac's palm, gripping tightening. His skin squished just slightly beneath her hold.

"She did this," Melanie hissed. "She did this to you. She messed everything up. Again. She hurt you. Again."

Why did she come back? Everything was going fine until she and her father decided to show their faces in Beacon Hills again. After everything they've done? After all the people they've hurt? The people they've killed? Erica...Boyd...

Now Isaac.

No. She wouldn't let her do this to him. Not again. She wouldn't get away with this, batting her big doe eyes, acting like she was so innocent and didn't have a hand in any of this. "This is all her fault," she hissed between her fenced teeth. "This is all her fault. You're here because of her. She just has to take away everyone I care about. But it's okay. She won't win. Not this time. I'll make sure of it.

"Scott wanted us to give her a second chance?" She let out a harsh laugh; it bounced around the room, a haunting boomerang. "I don't know about you, but I think he was wrong about her this time. Death follows her everywhere she goes. I think...I think it's time it catches up to her. What do you think?"

Isaac didn't need to speak. He'd understand. How many nights had they been up talking about his deep hatred for the twins? For what they did to Braeden, for attacking him during school, for goading him during their disastrous road trip, for killing Boyd. Allison's rap sheet was nearly as long. It's about time she had to atone for her choices.

"Don't worry. I'll fix this. I'll take care of everything. And then we can all go back to normal because she won't be around anymore." She brought Isaac's hand up to her mouth, pressing a firm kiss to the back; nauseating and sweet, the acrid scent wafting off his hand stoked the flame burning deep within her.

Rising, spine as shiny as the steel of her resolve, she leaned over and pressed another kiss to his forehead. A low groan seeped out of his mouth, his body tensed, just slightly, and then he eased, slipping back into sleep. Melanie sniffed. Allison would pay for that too.

She slipped out the door to his room, navigating back up from the burn unit and to the front. Rounding the corner, she recoiled and tucked herself away at the sight of them. Melissa and Scott speaking to...her. Allison, tucked into a chair, as if she was having the best sleep of her life. Must be nice. Melanie's eyes still burned from the long laid hours she'd been by Isaac's side. She couldn't sleep while he was in there alone.

"Have you been here all night?" Scott asked, concerned. As if she deserved it.

"Yeah... They won't let me see him because I'm not family." Melanie smirked. Poor Allison couldn't get what she wanted for once. As for her, it was easy; like simply asking for a favor. She charmed her way past the night clerk with a smile and a simple touch to the arm. It was amazing how far her siren power of persuasion could take her. No one batted an eye when she came across nurses and doctors, they just smiled and let her through. They really needed to amp up their security. "I told them he doesn't have any..."

"He's got us..." Melissa said.

Bullshit. Where were they all night? Why were they only checking on him now? Where were the phone calls or the texts keeping everyone in the loop? He didn't have them. He had her.

Followup to Place Your Bets and Settle the Score because @ben-bcrnes​ asked so nicely.

Tag: @princessofdarkness12​ @ben-bcrnes​ @sgtbuckyybarnes​ @ocfairygodmother​ @mystic-scripture​ @thegoodmogadorian​ @foxesandmagic​ @lareiism​ @witchofinterest​ @zadien​

“Do you have to go?”

Isaac hummed; the combination of her murmured question against his damp, warm skin and her fingernails lightly dragging against his chest stalled his response. His eyes closed, chest swelling as he took in a deep, scented breath. Notes of sandalwood, nutmeg, and lavender wove together, swathing him.

“Yes,” he finally replied, dragging out the word, relaxation easing not only the knots in his back but the words on his tongue. Craning his neck, tilting his head back, he flashed a sardonic grin. “My knees can’t keep this up much longer.”

Mel’s mouth twisted down into a pout against his back, lips dragging a teasing trail. A swath of goosebumps erupted over his skin at her touch despite the once hot water still keeping a heated hold on him. Except for his knees. They may as well be snow-capped mountains with how they rose over the water line, nearly pressed up against his chest just to fit in the bath Mel insisted they take once they returned to her apartment.

She didn’t need to twist his arm, it would be made of rubber anyhow, but the humor in the situation of him needing to fold himself into a near origami shape just to fit in front of her faded fast. Despite the increasing ache, he held his tongue. He’d be a fool to mess this up, being held so close, touched so lovingly, and being able to breathe without the weight of the world crushing his lungs. Vermont may be where he had a house, but being with her was like coming home.

“I don’t want you to go,” she spoke again after a few moments. She still sat pressed against his back, one arm draping over his chest; the other she held against the line of his neck, gently pulling her fingers through his hair.

Isaac grasped her hand, lifting it from his chest to press it against his mouth. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Any way your coach can reconsider?”

“I mean he’s not exactly happy we flew all this way to lose so...”

“Yeah, but he could at least do the sportsmanlike thing and watch to see how it ends.”

Isaac snorted. “He’d have to be sportsmanlike in the first place to pull that off.”

“And you’re sure your coach isn’t Jackson?”

“Considering we flew here in economy class, yeah, I’m sure.” He trailed his hand up her thigh, settling atop of her knee (hers of which was still submerged i the water, he noted.) He squeezed, pressing his thumb against the small groove next to her kneecap. She let out a soft hum. “But it’s fine. I don’t mind heading back early.” He quickly amended his statement when she cleared her throat, “with the exception of missing you, of course. There’s some things I need to do anyway.”

“That sounds oddly...final.”

“Yeah.” Isaac swallowed the lump forming in his throat. The warm humid air thickened, wrapping around his head. “I told you about, um, about my house up there?”

“The one that used to belong to your mom?”

“Yeah, that one. I think...I think it’s time to sell it.” The shake to his words surprised him, made him suck in a breath. The idea wasn’t new. He’d been speaking with his aunt and uncle about it for weeks. But saying the words aloud made it real in a way his mind couldn’t brush off. He uttered a quick laugh and a smal., shrug of his shoulders. “I mean...it’s going to be on the market soon so I am. Selling it, I mean.” He nodded his head and repeated the words again, firmer, with more declaration, “I’m gonna...I’m gonna sell it.”

“Are you sure?” Mel leaned forward as much as she could over the rise of his shoulder; his cheek squished upwards against the side of her head. “You love that place.”

“I know, but...I mean, my cousins are next door. And...s’not like she’s comin’ back for it or anything.” He pressed his lips together, fighting off the wave building in his stomach, growing upwards. His nose tingled and his eyes burned and he wasn’t entirely sure it was due to the oils dropped in the water. “I’m gonna need to renovate it first. Y’know, so people don’t fall through the floor. And I need to fix the hole Camden left when, uh, when we played human cannon ball and he missed the pile of pillows.” He twisted his mouth to the side and pointed a sigh downwards towards his hands where he picked a this nails. “I just, uh, wanted to ask though. I mean, if you’re not busy this summer...”

“Well, I have to drive a bike to one of dad’s customers but if you can pick me up from there, then yeah, I’ll come to Vermont to help you renovate.” He felt her nose wrinkle. “Well, less renovate and more...organize? Dad says I shouldn’t have a hammer anywhere near me. I mean, you go and pound a hole in the drywall one time and the guy won’t let you forget it. Which is really his fault for only telling me to hit the nail. I hit that nail! ...It just went a little further than he excepted...”

“I know it’s last minute—” 

“Even better! I thrive on spontaneity.” She turned her head, planting a kiss to his cheek. She nuzzled her nose against him; he closed his eyes, memorizing her touch. “But this does mean we have to give up all the fun of putting our lives on the line every day.”

Isaac sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Do you think you can handle a summer without your mortality hanging over your head?”

“I mean it’ll take a bit to get used to but, well, we all need to make sacrifices right?” Her breathy laugh ghosted across his skin. She dropped her hand from his hair, cupping his face, turning it towards her. Her thumb brushed against the light stubble coating his jaw. “You’re worth it. I love you. I want to help.”

He leaned forward, melding their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss. He barely pulled away, lips brushing against hers when he murmured, “I love you too. Thanks.”

Direct followup to Place Your Bets because i need more cute, bantering, flirty Melisaac in my life and there should have been more downtime moments in Teen Wolf where they get to be actual teens. Though this is set in their college years, the thought still applies.

Tag: @princessofdarkness12​ @ocfairygodmother​ @mystic-scripture​ @thegoodmogadorian​ @foxesandmagic​ @lareiism​ @witchofinterest​ @zadien​ @sgtbuckyybarnes​ @ben-bcrnes​

Isaac was ready for her before she even attempted to tiptoe behind him.

He couldn’t help allowing his wolf hearing to kick in; he wanted to know where she was at any given moment. They didn’t have much time together, after all. Plus, being in Vermont where there was a decidedly nonexistent werewolf population running around, he didn’t have to look over his shoulder every time he attended class waiting for death to inconvenience him so he was admittedly a little rusty and needed the practice—though he had a sneaking suspicion selkies were something he’d need to keep his eye on if whispers around the lake dwellers were anything to be taken seriously. (He made a mental note to bring that up later).

Still, when Mel launched herself at him, colliding with his back, hooking her arms and legs around his neck and waist, he reacted accordingly: he nearly dropped her.

“Isaac!” she all but squealed in his ear, clinging tighter.

Chuckling, he curled his arms around her knees, hoisting her higher on his back. “Sheesh, if that’s all I have to do to make you sound like that...”

Her knees squeezed around his waist, pressing into him. “Dropping me on my head isn’t the best way to go.” Her words vibrated off his neck; she buried her face into the crook of it much like she did when they lay down together. Damn, it’d been too long. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

He scoffed. “I’m not. Only because you just barely managed to beat us...”

“Barely nothing! I got that last goal in fair and square! Your goalie left me a mile-wide space! Remind me to thank him. I’ll bake him some cookies.” He didn’t have to see her face to know she had a big grin adorning her lips, a teasing glint in her eye. He’d become attuned to hearing her facial expressions through the phone. It was a blessing and a curse. Not quite like seeing the same thing in person.

And he wanted to see her.

He knelt, allowing her to slide off his back. Turning, a beaming smile burst onto his face at the sight of her, at the slightly faded maroon sweatshirt hanging to her thighs, the long arms danging over her hands, the black socks up to her knees sticking out her trusty paint-splattered docs. Somehow she looked smaller beneath the sports building looming behind her. Licking his lips, his eyes roamed her from head to toe and he took a step forward, pinching the sleeve of the hoodie. “I’ve been looking for that,”

“Seriously?” Her eyebrow crinkled. “You should have known I had it. I couldn’t go off to college without taking you with me. And since I couldn’t take you with me, I went for the next best thing.” She brought the sleeves up to her face and inhaled, lifting up on the tips of her toes. “Still smells like you too. I always wear it after a game.”

He moved his hands down to where the hem of his old Beacon Hills lacrosse sweatshirt brushed against her skin. “Hmm. Does your campus have a rule against public indecency?” he asked, rubbing his thumbs against her legs, pressing his forehead against hers.

“As much as I would love to find that out the fun way, you owe me a date.” Pressing her finger into his chest, she pushed him away. He grasped her hand before she put too much space between them, lacing their fingers together beneath the large sleeve. “So let’s go! I’m starving.” She marched forwards, pulling him behind her. He fell into an easy pace behind her.

Isaac let out a long sigh. “You have to tell me where to go.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Hey, that wasn’t part of the bet.”

“I don’t know my way around here, Mels,” he pointed out, “you do.”

Isaac nearly collided with her when she stopped abruptly. “Nuh-uh, no way. I won the bet fair and square and you’re renee...reene...rine...you’re taking it back!” A pout briefly settled on her face and then her eyes lit up and she gave a little hop. He really missed her. “Ooh! Actually, I know the perfect bar we can go to.”

“You know I can’t get drunk, right?”

“I’m counting on it. I want you entirely sober for later,” she explain, her words and intentions so blunt, his brain shut down and he was left blinking at her. “But for now, we’re going to have another bet to settle this. It’s a barcade so they have a bunch of games we can play. Loser pays for dinner and we shall see, once and for all, who the real winner is. ...Even though my team kicked your team’s ass.”

“Okay.” Isaac rubbed his chin, pretending to think her offer over. “But what if I say that I let you win?”

She began to walk backwards, lifting her chin, looking him in the eye. He felt it all the way down to his toes. “Then you better prepare to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness.”

He smirked. “I’ll get on my knees for a different reason; I’m sure either outcome will please you.” Their arms extended as she kept walking backwards; he caught up to her, lifting his arm to spin her around once like a ballerina before draping his arm around her shoulder, right above the large white letters of LAHEY on the back of the sweatshirt, pulling her into his side.

This was made purely for two reasons: 1) I miss my bby Mel and 2) this gif inspired me in a way I hadn’t been inspired in a while. Enjoy!

Tag: @princessofdarkness12​, @thegoodmogadorian​, @foxesandmagic​, @mystic-scripture​, @lareiism​, @witchofinterest​, @ocfairygodmother​, @zadien​

“Hey Crowe.” Melanie lifted her head from her knee, easing her deep stretch on the bright green scratchy grass. Her head swiveled around to see Watts staring at her. Her fingers slowed in her hair, pausing the quick braid she’d woven in to keep her hair out of her face. She learned the hard way a simple ponytail wouldn’t do in the midst of an intense game. She needed every hair to cooperate to be at the top of her game.

“What’s up?” she asked, eyebrows crinkling.

Watts lifted his dimpled chin, looking past her shoulder before leaning over to his side stretch. “You got company.”

Humming, Mel twisted at the waist, her eyes quickly scanning the crowded grounds. People milling about the edge of the lacrosse field, carrying blankets and coolers and holding the hands of small bouncy children, a group of players in white jerseys with gold lettering stretching on the other half, Isaac walking towards her, a few players in cerulean jerseys running around the field, bleachers filling up with spectators, some kid attempting to lick an anthill, Coach talking to—

Wait.

Mel looked again, spluttering when her half-finished braid swung around and hit her in the face. She pawed at her face, batting it away, blinked, and watched the figure approaching.

Isaac?

Certainly it couldn’t be but...the height was the same, the slow, deliberate walk was the same, the sparkle in the blue eyes was the same, the stretching, lazy, cocksure smile was the same, the messy golden hair was the same. Her heart thumped. It was Isaac!

“Hey!” In a flash Melanie jumped to her feet, abandoning her stick, gloves, and shoulder pads. Her cleats dug into the grass, propelling her forward; she couldn’t help but think the game should be good with the grass in top springy for like this. It faded when her body collided with his in a fierce hug and was replaced with thoughts of him: how he smelled the same (like pine and mint), how he felt the same (sturdy and soft, like a hug meant just for her), how he looked the same (except his hair was a little longer and his stubble scratched the side of her neck in a way her stomach quivered), how he sounded the same (if he weren’t holding her up she would’ve fallen to her knees when he uttered a soft “Hey Mello”. God, she loved when he called her that.) “You didn’t call me.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he replied.

“You did,” she said, beaming up at him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, head tilting back to fully take him in. “I’m so happy you’re here! Figured you would have stopped by earlier, though.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I got busy. You know how it is.”

She nodded. “You’re not kidding. Coach Fernsby—I told you about him, right?—yeah, way worse than Finstock. He makes Finstock look normal by comparison.”

Isaac sucked air in between his teeth and let out a little laugh. “Ouch. How do you guys get anything done?” With fingers locked on her lower back, he gently rocked her from side to side.

“Well, he’s insane, obviously, but when we catch him during his lucid moments he’s actually really good. I think he would’ve been fired by now if we didn’t have such good results.” Mel’s eyes shone like sunbeams bouncing off the surface of an ocean. “I think he’s a manticore, though.”

Isaac blinked. “A what?”

“A manticore,” she repeated. “You know: head of a man, the body of a lion, and the tail of a scorpion. They’re said to be unconquerable.”

“Ah.” Isaac nodded. “And you think that’s why your team is always winning?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt. But my team also has me so...”

He shifted his hands to her sides, giving her hips a squeeze. “You’re too small to have an ego that big,” he murmured in the way she liked, making red crawl up her neck.

“Jealous that mine’s bigger?” she asked, not bothering to hide her following smile.

His eyebrow twitched. “Watch it. I might just need to show you mine to compare.”

“Mmm, I’m not against that.” Mel’s face scrunched up at the sound of a sharp whistle peeling through the air. Heaving a sigh, she turned to the sidelines to see clusters of blue jerseys and white jerseys clumping together. The game was about to start. “Okay, I have to go. Talk to you after?”

“Sure.” Isaac nodded and held onto her hands, stopping her before she moved too far away from him. “But I was thinking...”

Mel lifted her eyebrows, stepping closer. She didn’t want to move away from him too soon anyway. “Oh?”

“To make the game more interesting. Since you’re so confident you’re going to win and all. How about we make a bet?”

“Keep talking.”

“Okay, if you win, I’ll take you out.”

Mel nodded. “I like the sound of that.” A win and spending time with Isaac? Their dates were few and far between, she wasn’t going to turn that down. “And if I lose?”

“Then you’ll take me out.”

“Isn’t the point of a bet to make the stakes different?” Mel asked.

Isaac leaned over and kissed her cheek. “They are. Because you’re not going to win.” He grasped her cheeks and pulled her closer, dipping his head to place a dizzying kiss on her lips. She gripped the front of his white jersey, digging her fingers in the fabric, grounding herself as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him back.

“We’ll see about that, Lahey,” Mel muttered, putting her heels back on the ground, cheeks red in a pleased flush. “I won’t go easy on you. I know all your tricks.”

He dropped his hands to her sides, his long fingers played with the hem of her blue jersey, lightly brushing against her skin underneath. Her stomach clenched at his touch. Shit, it’s been so long...

“Please don’t,” he replied, his eyes slowly trailing over her face, “I never want you to hold back.”

Mel’s lips twitched at the way he looked at her, the undercurrent throbbing beneath his words. A referee whistled again and Coach Fernsby let out some primal scream on the sidelines. That was her cue. She kissed Isaac again, reluctantly pulling away to jog back to her team on her half of the field, him rejoining his.

She took her abandoned equipment from Watts, the other co-captain, with an appreciative nod. She had to get her head in the game. After all, she’d see Isaac later.

 If Melanie Crowe Were Canon                         ↳ Teen Wolf Reunion (Part 2) (inspo)

Jeff: Where does Melanie end up? What do you see for her future?

Emily: She’d be...what? Twenty-five...ish? Twenty-six? Ugh, math. Anyway! She would have graduated college, a major in Folklore and Mythology if she didn’t just go to a community college. And then got an associate’s degree in Nursing. I think she’d either be starting her life as an RN at Beacon Hills Memorial alongside her role model for life, Melissa McCall, or, if not that, she’d be heading towards becoming a music therapist. I see one or the other. I don’t know, she wants to do it all! Either way she’d be helping people and putting her skills to good use: whether that’s with music or her knowledge of the supernatural. I mean they had to have made a supernatural wing at the hospital by now, right? But, yeah—as long as she’s helping people and being there for them and being a support; that’s who Mel is at her core, a support for people. She has too much love in the world and too big a heart not to put it out to those who need it.

But she’s happy and she’s good! She’s still with Isaac, maybe they’re long distance, maybe he comes back to Beacon HIlls at that point. Who knows. I see them still together. Very serious. They worked through all their issues and are going strong. Maybe they’re close to being engaged? I can’t speak for you though. What do you think, Dan?

Daniel: I think Isaac’s theoretically had a ring in his pocket since the summer after they graduated high school. He’d definitely come back into her life sooner rather than later. I see him going into social work, to be the person he wished had stepped in when he was going through his rough childhood. Helping others as well, following in Scott’s footsteps to a degree. Much more confident in who he is, much more levelheaded and sure of himself and aware of his place in the pack and everything. But yeah, on the road to being engaged. I’m all for that. Isaac deserves a happy ending, I think.

Tag: @princessofdarkness12​ @thegoodmogadorian​ @foxesandmagic​ @mystic-scripture​ @lareiism​ @witchofinterest​ @ocfairygodmother​ @zadien​

----

For once, Melanie wished that some supernatural emergency would rear its ugly head if only so she wouldn’t have to be tortured anymore. Beacon Hills had been quiet lately, a little too quiet. And it was beginning to creep her out. It’s Beacon Hills; something happened every day! People went missing. Mountain lion attacks. Strange and unexplained occurrences. But it seemed that when the year started anew, all the mystery of the town went with it and they were given the reprieve of being normal teenagers again.

Normal teenagers with homework.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore,” she said, closing her textbook with a snap. She tossed it aside, watching as it bounced on the dark green flannel blanket laying across the duvet. Rubbing her tired, burning eyes she continued, “Why does it matter what the capital of Slovakia is? When am I ever going to need to know that?”

“Bratislava.”

Melanie’s eyes swung across the room to where Isaac sat in the desk chair, hunched over his laptop. His long fingers flicked a pen between them; the red blur resembled a pinwheel. The laptop put an eerie blue glow on his face. “What?”

“Bratislava.” Isaac glanced at her over his shoulder. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling at the sight of his new reading glasses perched on his nose. He hated them. She found them adorable. “That’s the capital of Slovakia.”

“Lucky guess,” she said.

“It’s not a guess. That’s what it is.”

Her eyebrow lifted. She’d suspect that he was fucking with her, but he didn’t do that. He was one of the few that didn’t brush her off, didn’t handle her like a nuisance, didn’t deal with her. And she appreciated it. Boy, did she appreciate it.

“Oh yeah?” Sending a challenging look his way, she reached for her history book and flipped through the pages. “Okay, let’s see….ah!” She slapped her finger down on a page. “What’s the capital of…Albania?”

“Tirana,” he replied right away. She squinted. He smiled and turned back to the computer, resuming his pen wiggling as he looked over something. She suspected it was their English homework. English wasn’t one of his best classes. But that was okay because it was one of hers. That’s part of the reason she was there.

Melanie flipped through the book again. “Zimbabwe?”

“Uh…Harare.” He clicked around on the computer and then closed the lid when the screen blackened. He spun around in his chair, giving her his full attention. She nestled against the pillows on the headboard. A puff of Isaac-scented air ballooned around her—Irish Spring soap, wet earth, and whatever shampoo Melissa bought for him and Scott. She discreetly took a deep breath, holding it in for a couple seconds. “At least give me a tough one.”

“Bucharest.”

He chuckled, leaning back in the swivel chair. He laced his fingers and rested them against his neck. Behind his frames, his blue eyes sparkled. “Bucharest is the capital. It’s the capital of Romania.”

Was it? A blush appeared on her cheeks as she flipped through the book. Coming upon the page, her eyes scanned it and then she frowned. It was. She cleared her throat. “Well, well…lucky guess! I was just testing you!” she declared.

“Were you?” he asked. An eyebrow quirked and he smiled that half smile that never failed to make her stomach twist in the best way.

“Yeah! Just to see if you were paying attention.”

“I’m not the one who needs to study for history, remember?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject, Lahey! This is about you, not me!” Melanie said. “Okay, one more. How about…Kye…erg…what?” She brought the book closer to her face, squinting at the typed word as she silently sounded it out in her head. “Kee…erg…istan.”

“Ah…” Isaac’s eyes crinkled, nose wrinkling as he thought. Every muscle in her body strained to keep from making a sound at the sight. It should be against the law of boys to be so obliviously cute. “That is…Bishkek.”

“Bless you.”

Isaac chuckled and shook his head. “Very funny.”

“Thought so.” Melanie closed the book again. She rested it on her lifted knees and drummed her fingers against the cover. “How do you know all these?”

“My father…he, ah, he made me memorize them all.” Isaac’s smile slowly faded, and he pressed his lips together, untangling himself to switch positions, resembling the state The Thinker. He rubbed his hand over his stubble covered mouth—a new development that cropped up sometime in late December—the scratching sound amplified in the quiet room. “Thought that if I had enough time to read comics, I had enough time to study.”

She winced. “Sorry for bringing it up.” Mr. Lahey was an off-limits subject, only brought up and discussed by Isaac when he supplied the information.

“No, it’s okay. You didn’t know.” He put a smile back on his face; she noted that it didn’t completely reach his eyes. “It’s my party trick. …If only I were invited to parties for it to be useful.” He scoffed. “Or liked them.”

“Hey, the room doesn’t have to be full to be a party!” Melanie stated, putting the book aside. Her eyes caught a picture on his bedside table, of himself and Scott and Melissa on the front steps of the McCall home. Turning back to him she added with a grin, “It can be a party with just you and me!”

He squinted, drumming his fingers against his mouth. “So, you asking me to help you study for history was just a cover.”

She shrugged. “Not when it’s true. My history grades suck. I just so happen to bring a party with me wherever I go, lucky for you.” Smile dropping, Melanie pinned him with a serious look. “Bahrain?”

“Manama,” he replied almost instantly.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh yeah, talk nerdy to me.”

He rolled his eyes; she didn’t miss the quirk to the corners of his lips. He removed his reading glasses and rubbed at his eyes, shifting from left to right in the swivel chair. Even with it raised all the way his long legs aided in his feet still touching the ground. “You’re a dork.”

Sliding off the bed, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. Placing a kiss to his cheek, she slid her lips back until they touched the shell of his ear, “You’re saying that like you don’t know this about me already.” She smirked at the widening of his eyes and the red flush that appeared on his cheeks. Running her fingers through his hair she asked casually, “What else don’t I know about you?”

Humming, he laced his fingers against the small of her back, rubbing his thumbs against her spine. “Uhhh...I speak Italian.”

She stopped attempting to braid his hair and stared at him. “No you don’t.”

“Yeah I do. Same thing with studying the capitals, Dad thought French was too easy.” He briefly let go of her to make finger quotes and then replaced his hands. “He made me take lessons after school.”

“Wait, shit, you’re not joking!” She studied his face, searching for his tell—he had a problem with lying an eye contact—but his ocean blue eyes stared back at her, sweeping her away. “Say something!”

He blinked, sucked in a breath, and said, “Sei molto esigente per qualcuno che ha bisogno di aiuto per mantenere alti i propri voti.”

A pout came to her lips. “That wasn’t nice, was it?”

Leaning forward, he brushed his nose against hers and a sly smile spread across his lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he murmured and captured her lips in a kiss. Her words of protest died on her tongue and was replaced with an appreciative groan as he pulled her onto his lap.

Yes, she would actually but she could ask him about it later.