Jealousy||drabble
Lydia closed the door quickly behind her, turning around to come nose-to-nose with Isaac Lahey. This had become a regular occurrence these last few months. His blue eyes were filled with lust as he attached his lips to hers, one arm pushing against the wall, keeping his balance, the other snaking behind her back and riding up under her shirt. She couldn’t help the usual groan she exhaled as his tongue entered her mouth, fighting with hers for dominance.Faster than she’d anticipated he dropped his arms around her ass and picked her up. A small squeak escaped her mouth as he spun her quickly, propping her up on the spare desk. She trailed light, close-mouthed kisses along his jaw up to his ear, ready to whisper something dirty into his ear. She was facing the door, and a silhouette about Allison’s height, with her same hairstyle, passed by. The words got caught on her tongue like a hair, tangled and annoying to try and get out. He pulled back, his expression on of both slight disappointment and confusion “What?” Lydia’s heartbeat picked up slightly, and she knew he’d notice any second. “Nothing.” She whispered, slamming her lips back on his with more force now. She broke apart briefly, his eyes opening, and she drank in his blue lust like it was her elixir. She pushed gently, sliding of the table, chasing him until his back hit the supply shelf. She could see the slight flash of fear in his eyes. He’s claustrophobic, pay attention, idiot. She scolded herself. She pressed her lips back to him, a little softer this time. But he met her lips with her own previous force, winding his arms back to their original position on his back, drawing intricate patterns and leaving goosebumps in their wake. She grinned as she felt a hard pressure near her hips. She was trying to pull the hormonal teenager out of him to distract from her earlier faltering, and it was working.
She slid her hands up the supply shelf, aiming for his hair, when her hand passed something pointy. In hindsight, it was probably a pencil, or a compass, but at that moment, in her drugged state, she mistook it for one of Allison’s arrows. Her hands and lips froze, her eyes popping open. It took Isaac a few seconds to notice.
"What’s up with you today?" Bright blue eyes stared into her, alive with concern. In her mind’s eye Lydia could see those eyes looking at Allison, worrying about Allison. She could see them holding hands in the halls, kissing at her locker. They’d be able to have a proper relationship, Lydia told herself. They were friends, it was completely plausible for the two of them to be a thing. They’d be cute. Unlike the crazy slut, whose last boyfriend left her for London. The broken bitch, who couldn’t handle another boyfriend. Isaac was better off with someone like Allison, beautiful, sweet, Allison, who was a hunter. A sleek, fast, graceful hunter, rather than a crazy, screaming banshee lady.
Lydia didn’t know why all these thoughts were coming to her. She’d never been jealous of Allison. Sure, she’d been jealous of a jacket, or a skirt, but she’d always been comfortable in her own skin. Or at least the skin she’d built up for herself, the one she clung to like a lifebuoy.
And the holding hands, the locker stuff? She’d never wanted that with Isaac. She’d had it with Jackson, and it hadn’t worked. With Isaac, it was just sex. A distraction from all the psycho banshee shit. She just needed to vent, and he was more than willing. They used each other, that was it.
His hands fell from her back, linking at her waist. “You seem different. Did something happen? Between you and Allison?” He cocked an eyebrow in that annoyingly cute way he had a habit of doing everything. “Why do you keep talking about Allison?” Lydia stepped back, straightening her skirt out and standing up straight. Isaac’s features furrowed in confusion. “I don’t-” he trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence. Allison? He hadn’t spoken to her for two days, since he’d helped her find her dad. “Is there something going on between you two?” Lydia’s eyes narrowed, her shoulders hunching forward and her features stiffening. “‘Cause if there is, we might need to end this thing we’ve got going on. Whatever you label it.” She locked her eyes with Isaac in a way that she’d practiced over the years when she’d get into arguments with her parents. She was holding eye contact, but at the same time the person she was looking at still didn’t deserve the attention she was giving them. They had to show her they deserved it. There was a moment of silence, and she could feel Isaac reading her. She didn’t like that. She felt exposed, even though she was showing less skin than she normally did by this time in their meet ups. Eventually she cracked “What?”.
