You give me something to talk about,
something to talk about.
Isaac Lahey was very much in love with you. His mind was always (always) filled with thoughts of you; your smile, your laugh, the way you wore your hair. He was invested in your relationship as much as you were, and he refused to obey his friends' wishes to stop talking about you so much. He simply did not want to.
"Hey," he said suddenly, lifting his head from his Biology notes and looking up at Scott and Stiles. "I was just thinking about -"
"Y/N? Yes, Isaac, we've established that five times in the last five minutes," Stiles replied without missing a beat, not even bothering to glance at Isaac's somewhat surprised face. "Not all of us can have gorgeous, multi-talented girlfriends," he added with a grumble. Scowling down at his notes, Stiles mumbled incoherent insults under his breath. Isaac leaned back, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He was the one with the gorgeous girlfriend this time. Now that was new.
'Cause I think you're a saint,
And I think you're an angel.
Isaac waited patiently for you to finish dressing up for your date with him, admiring the pictures of you and your brother that hung on the walls and decorated your hallway. He hadn't even wanted you to dress up, he would've been fine taking you out in sweatpants and a t-shirt (you looked beautiful in anything) but you had insisted. His eyes traveled to the staircase when he heard you shut your bedroom door and begin to walk toward him, your heels clicking against the wooden floor. You would still be shorter than him, but the length of your shoes gave you some extra leverage.
His mouth quite literally fell open the moment you were within view, his blue eyes growing wide when you were finally in front of him. You were smiling his favorite smile, the reserved and somewhat shy one, but you were also a bit confused.
"You - you cannot be real," he stuttered, still trying to figure out how an actual angel found him the least bit attractive when she was the embodiment of perfection.
"What do you mean?" You laughed, glancing down at your outfit. You didn't think it was anything special, you had bought the dress recently and had been wanting to wear it out for the longest time, though the opportunity had never presented itself. Isaac shook his head, snapping out of whatever trance he had been in, and steered you toward the hall mirror. He placed his hands on your shoulders, staring at your reflections.
"Well, I mean, just look at you!" He sputtered. "You are so beautiful, how the hell are you an real person? You're like, beauty out of a dream or something." You blushed, hiding your face in your hands.
"You always know how to make me blush, don't you, Lahey?" You said, your voice muffled by your hands. You heard him laugh, removing your hands from your face and leaning down to kiss you affectionately on the cheek.
You're a miracle,
a miracle.
"I thought full moons were supposed to get easier," Isaac was growling, thrashing at the chains that Scott had placed firmly around his wrists. Scott didn't answer, but he did call anxiously up the stairs, "Stiles, where the hell is Y/N?!"
Stiles came bounding down the steps, nervous brown eyes darting from his best friend to Isaac, who was still having a bit of trouble controlling himself during the full moon. "She's on here way, she said she should be here in like a minute. Traffic and whatever," the teen laughed nervously, peeking at Isaac from around Scott's shoulder. Isaac growled in response to Stiles' disdainful glance, claws extending as he pried at the chains. There was a crash from upstairs, followed by a loud apology to the piece of furniture, followed by you rushing to meet the boys in Scott's basement.
"I might have broken your mother's vase, tell her I'll pay for it," you told Scott apologetically, giving him a fleeting hug before kneeling in front of your frantic boyfriend.
You placed a hand tenderly on his cheek, staring into his eyes. They weren't blue, they were gold, but they were still his eyes, and they were still beautiful, in your own opinion. He was growling lowly at you, but you knew that he would never even dream of hurting you, that it was physically impossible for him to do.
"Hey, shhh, baby, I'm here," you murmured, stroking his cheek with your fingertips. He almost instantly quieted down, calmed and reassured by your gentle touch. His eyes were glowing their golden, but you could see the struggle within them. He wanted to be in control, though it was difficult. "I'm here, okay? You're safe with me, you know I would never hurt you, I love you."
With a deep, shuddering breath, Isaac was back to normal. His wrists were still bound by chains, so he couldn't hug you back when you wrapped your arms around him reassuringly. His face buried in your sweet smelling hair, he couldn't help but think, "When did I get so lucky as to have someone like her be my miracle, be my girlfriend?" In all honesty, there were moments where he thought he didn't deserve you because of how wonderful you were inside out, because of the way you managed to save him, to give him the hope that things can and will get better. You were his miracle, a blessing disguised as a short and all around lovely teenage girl.
