Hold Me Closer | Stisaac (Serendipity, Book 1)

Chapter 14 (Revised April 2024)

You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered
The rest of the world was black and white
But we were in screaming color
And I remember thinking
Are we out of the woods yet?
- Taylor Swift, 'Out Of The Woods'

"No, you're wrong!"
"You say that with a lot of confidence for someone who thinks Buffy and Spike were soulmates. What's wrong with you?" Stiles was shocked. He couldn't even dream of conveying how shocked he truly was, especially not through a cell phone conversation. He hoped Isaac was psychic and felt some type of vibration because what the hell?
"Angel was boring and mope-y. He wasn't exciting until he turned evil and tried to kill everyone," Isaac replied.
"Are you serious? Buffy loved him so much that she literally left Sunnydale after being forced to kill him. She still loved him in season seven!"
"She also loved Spike in season seven. And I'm pretty sure anyone would run away if they'd had to kill their lover."
"Yeah, but she was a totally different person by the time season seven came around. And she still loved Angel."
"That doesn't mean they were soulmates! And that's exactly what I mean—Spike brought out a bunch of different parts of her that Angel couldn't have."
"Uh, actually, her dying and coming back is what did that. Spike was just an outlet for her trauma and he tried to kill her way more times than Angel ever did. Also, the bathtub scene in Seeing Red? That alone totally ruins any chance of her and Spike being soulmates."
"Okay, you do have a point there."
"How about we forget the broody men for a second? Faith. Faith is where it's at. That was a total missed opportunity. That's who she should've been with."
"Definitely agree with that...Hey, it's almost four in the morning. Don't you have a job interview at eight?"
"Oh, shit. Yeah, I forgot."
"I should let you go."
"Probably..."
"Call you in the morning?"
"Yeah."
Isaac yawned. "Goodnig-"
"Wait." Stiles rolled over onto his back. His ribs had gone sore from lying on his stomach for so long. "Will you, like...fall asleep with me?"
"On the phone?"
"Yeah." Stiles felt pathetic. Like a stupid twelve year old boy. But he couldn't help it.
"Let me just plug my phone in." A rustle and a grunt later, Isaac was back. "I'll just put it on speaker."
    Good idea, Stiles thought, and did the same. He knew he should just go to sleep. His eyes were aching and heavy and he did need to be up early. But he also knew that as soon as the call ended, and Isaac's presence wasn't there in some form, he would feel utterly alone and the anxiety would take him over.
"What time do you think your interview will be over?" Isaac asked, his voice sounding further away. Something creaked in the background.
"I don't know. Probably around eighty forty-five. Assuming it goes well and they love me and immediately hire me."
Another creak followed by a thud and a perturbed groan crackled from Isaac's side of the call. When he spoke again, his voice was just a bit louder.
"Can I pick you up afterward? I'll take you out to breakfast to celebrate your new job."
"I haven't even gotten it yet."
"Exactly. 'Yet.' You'll get it. Even if it's just to stick you at the door as eye candy for the customers."
Stiles laughed and closed his eyes. "You're ridiculous."
Stiles joked, but he was terrified. His first job interview in years was enough pressure, but to know that he was running out of time made it worse. Watching his savings account balance dwindle day by day had shoved him into a long tunnel with only a small spot of light visible at the end. He needed this job. He was desperate for it. Without it, he'd be trapped and penniless in a lonely house that he hated—that is, until the eviction notice rolled in. Then he would be sleeping in the shrubbery.
    He needed to get out. Being surrounded by Chris's ghost was suffocating. Chris's house, full of things Chris had paid for because he hadn't allowed Stiles to work, a bed that they'd shared. It had been a fight just to convince him to allow Stiles on the lease, and he'd only won that because Regina had agreed with him. Stiles had already ripped down every photo of them from the walls, burned them alongside the photo album they'd started after their first year anniversary.
    It didn't do a damn thing to erase the memories.
"You'll get the job," Isaac repeated. "I know you will."
"I hope you're right."
"One thing you'll learn about me very quickly is that I am always right."
"Oh, really? I'd like to test that theory."
"Did you really just quote 'Buffy' to me?"
Stiles laughed. "I did, yeah. Entirely by accident, by the way. Happy coincidence, I guess."
    Unable to open his eyes, Stiles felt his face growing heavier. He was almost starting to slur.
Isaac sighed.
"What's wrong?" Stiles asked.
"Nothing. Nothing. I just, uh...Can't wait to see you tomorrow."
"Try telling your voice that. That sigh was, like, total despair." Stiles smiled to himself and waited for a response. "That was a joke..."
"No, yeah, I know. I know."
"Ice, what's wrong? I can tell there's something."
Isaac audibly swallowed. "I...miss you, Stiles."
Stiles's throat closed. A dull ache seared in his chest suddenly. He cleared his throat and sucked in a breath. "I miss you too."
"It's only been five days, you know. The wedding was literally five days ago. Is that crazy? Am I crazy? That I—that I miss you already?"
"Maybe. But I guess that means I'm just as crazy as you. And maybe it's the fact that I'm half asleep right now but to be totally, embarrassingly honest...I missed you as soon as I got home that night. As soon as I fucking got home."
"I don't like it."
"Don't like what?"
"How this feels."
"What do you mean?"
"How it feels to miss you. It doesn't feel good. It's...it's almost like...I feel you, but you're not really here. Like—like my fingertips are literally tingling and aching right now because I could swear that they're touching your face, but they're not."
For a moment, Stiles was speechless. A tear tickled its way down his cheek. How was it possible for Isaac to put into words precisely what Stiles felt? How was it possible for Isaac to feel those things at all? How was it possible to miss someone so goddamn much?
    Something had changed at the wedding, Stiles knew it. Felt it. And now he knew that Isaac did too. In a way, he was glad that the whirlwind of the last three and a half weeks was not only affecting him.
"Tomorrow...when you pick me up," Stiles whispered, sleep taking its toll on his voice.
"Yeah?"
"Can you just—I—Can we just...Hold each other? I need to...feel you in my—my arms."
Isaac responded, but Stiles heard only his voice, not his words, as sleep finally took him away.