Tethered // Teen Wolf // Isaac Lahey

SIXTY

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KOREY

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"How are you not tired?" Stiles groaned, his face pressed into the locker beside mine, his eyes closed and drool dried at the side of his mouth.

"Werewolf," I snorted, slipping my textbooks back into my locker and closing it. I wouldn't need any of them, I had art class to get to instead.

"I hate that," Stiles forced himself up, practically sleepwalking, "it's not fair."

"Want me to carry you to class?" I forced down a playful smile, "Bridal style?"

"Ha, ha," Stiles muttered sarcastically before cracking his eyes open, "you're so funny. You know what's funnier? If you were being serious, I'd accept your offer right now." He stared at me, and I matched his gaze, both of us stopping mid walk.

Amusement bloomed in my chest, and I raised a brow, "I mean..."

We got a lot of weird looks, but Stiles thrived under their judgemental gazes, playing up the part of a damsel in distress as I carried him up the stairs and left him outside his physics classroom.

Unfortunately, the antics came to a curt end as I reached the art classroom, spotting Mr Pittore bustling about already, handing out new assignments. 

I clenched the strap of my backpack, tension whipping through my body and snapping my spine straight. I used to love this lesson so much, but I wanted to be anywhere else now.

"Alright guys, feel free to start whenever you're ready," Mr Pittore called his hands together, "you can use paint, charcoal, pencils, it's all up to you. Make your portraits as authentically accurate to yourselves, as you can imagine."

My heart dropped further, sinking into the acid of my stomach and shrivelling up. It was almost like he'd picked the worst possible lesson on purpose.

"Hey,"

I jumped slightly as a hand landed on my back, looking down sharply, my heart pounding in my ears as I met Lydia's eyes.

She smiled narrowly, rubbing my back softly, "Come on. You got this." She pushed lightly, pressing us into the art room and she didn't hesitate when Mr Pittore glanced at us, she just kept guiding me to my usual easel, sending Isaac a pointed, knowing stare before she walked away to join Allison.

 Isaac smiled narrowly, tilting his head down until it landed on my shoulder, and then, he tapped my arm, "I'm done with my portrait. Can you check it out?"

I turned my eyes to his paper, scanning  over the stick figure with overly curly hair and two blue crayon drawn eyes on it he'd created. "I love it."

Isaac hummed in amusement, bringing up his head so he could meet my eyes, "I think I really captured my eyes well."

I nodded quickly, a small smile pulling at my lips, "Oh, yeah, totally, love the dead look you've portrayed."

Isaac's smile widened, "You know me so well."

I went to make a comment about how he hadn't made himself tall enough when I caught a scent. The scent of chalk and iron.