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“So, not good news?”
Scott’s fists are clenched, resting on the table surrounded by shredded white pieces of paper, stark against their dark wood table.
“Dear Mr. McCall,” Scott growls, “we regret to inform you…”
Isaac leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “That sucks.”
Scott stares across the room, eyes glazed over. “This was the last school.”
Isaac shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He has no idea what to say. It isn’t fair. But life never really is.
“It’s so unfair,” Scott spits, echoing his thoughts. “I’ve worked just as hard as anyone. But every letter is some variation of 'we don’t think a werewolf is a good fit for vet school.'"
“You do have that missing semester.”
Scott slams a fist against the table. The wood cracks down the middle. Scott winces and pulls his hand away.
“I was being held captive by Monroe. That semester was supposed to…” Scott traces a finger along the crack in the table, visibly deflating. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I ever thought it did.”
“Hey…” Isaac uncrosses his arms. The anger made more sense. Anger is easier than whatever this is. “It’s just a table.”
The table takes that moment to finish breaking, splitting down the crack, each piece crashing to the floor. The shredded envelope paper floats to the ground in slow motion as Isaac steps closer to Scott.
Scott drops his head into his hands. “I’m sorry.”
Isaac suppresses the urge to growl. He kneels next to the chair Scott still sits in, the remains of the table and later surrounding them. He lifts a hand to cup Scott’s chin and tilt his face toward himself.
“You matter. You matter so much to me.”
Isaac wants to kick himself for how cheesy that sounds.
Then Scott smiles softly at him. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. And it’s not Isaac’s favorite goofy grin, but it’s something. It’s progress.
Scott moves one of his hands and runs it through Isaac’s hair.
They sit like that for an eternity that can never last long enough, breathing quietly. Issac presses their lips together in a brief kiss before rising and offering Scott a hand.
For a minute, he thinks Scott won’t take it.
Scott does, his palm warm against Isaac’s skin. “I really am sorry, about the table.”
“We can get a new one.”
“I suppose we’ll save a lot of money, since I won’t be going to school.”
He tries to say it lightly, but Isaac hears the way it sticks in his throat.
“It’s okay, you know?”
Scott sighs, glancing at the table.
“Being angry,” Isaac clarifies. “It’s really not fair, and you’ve given so much to protect people. And being a vet is… it’s what you’ve always wanted. Since that day you showed me how to take pain, I’ve known it was your dream to help animals. So. It’s okay, you know?”
Scott’s smile is a little less strained. “Thank you.”
Isaac shrugs. “I’m not really good at motivational speeches.”
Scott leans in and kisses him, a brief brush of lips. His grin is just a little goofy as he pulls away.
“Sounded pretty good to me.”