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Isaac definitely did not like Ed Sheeran, totally didn’t appreciate his soulful lyrics, awesome singing voice, or witty videos. Because as Boyd had pointed out, Ed’s music was sappy girl music. There were times though, that Isaac didn’t give a shit what anyone thought anymore.
Where he would shove his headphones into his ears, because the guy just seemed to get it alright? There were times he would just wander the woods, words pouring out of his lips unable to stop them.
“Give me love, like him” he sang softly, honey colored eyes floating through his mind, “cause lately I’ve been waking up alone.”
It was actually pretty sad how accurate this song was now that he thought about it.
“You know I’ll fight my corner, maybe tonight I’ll call ya, after my blood turns into alcohol.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at that part because he couldn’t get drunk. No matter how many bottles of scotch he downed, no matter how hard he tried. Regardless of the only person who he’d actually thought might love him walked away without an explanation. Still couldn’t get drunk.
The lyrics swirled around in his mind, “all I want is the taste that your lips allow” stupid lips taunted him, the pink color they turned after they kissed, the way they feel – felt, against his skin. The words they had whispered in his ear.
Dammit, he swore to himself he wasn’t going to cry, but then again he had sworn to himself he would delete this song and forget all about Stiles as well and you can see how well that was going.
It had been three months, three months and he still wasn’t over it, and it was time for him to just suck it up. Except he couldn’t because he had actually started to believe that someone might want him, like, forever. It was almost two years. In retrospect it probably wasn’t that long. But it was the longest either of them had ever lasted with anything.
“You always had a beautiful voice.” Isaac ran his sleeves over his damp cheeks, “thanks” he mumbled turning around with a frown.
Stiles looked bad, like really bad. He hadn’t seen him since he had taken his stuff out of, well what was now Isaac’s apartment. It had been theirs, and left. He looked pale, and the heavy rings under his eyes could no longer be brushed off as causal nights getting caught up in internet research. He didn’t look like he had been sleeping, or eating and
Isaac felt an overwhelming need to just go over and hug him. But he didn’t. Because he couldn’t anymore.
“You must hate me.” He said, hands shoving themselves awkwardly into his sweater pockets. He looked nervous, which didn’t make sense because if anyone should be nervous it should be Isaac. It was kind of the unwritten rules of how the dumper and the dumpee should be feeling.
“I wish” he muttered honestly, because he really did. His life would have been so much easier if he hated Stiles. If he still didn’t love him with every fucking traitorous fiber of his being.
“Does me being sorry make it any better?” Stiles asked sheepishly.
Isaac laughed weakly, because no, it didn’t. “What do you want Stiles” he asked, Stiles might have loved small talk and dancing around the point but Isaac had always been more of a let’s just get this all out on the table kind of guy.
“My dad” Stiles said looking anywhere but at Isaac, “he said you weren’t doing well.”
Well the sheriff was right about that one. Isaac had been trying to be good, to move on. He hadn’t done anything exceptionally stupid since he begged Derek to kill him about two weeks in. Derek had told him he was being stupid and refused.
“Well what did you expect?” he asked letting more spite slip into his voice than he originally wanted.
“I expected you to move on!” Stiles exclaimed finally looking at him and Isaac could tell now that he was crying, “I expected you to take your acceptance letter from fucking Yale and leave!”
Isaac had never thought that maybe Stiles was trying to let him, go to school. That he hadn’t left him because he wasn’t good enough or because he had found someone that was worth his time.
Really though, only Stiles would think the best way to do that was to push him away.
“I’m going to Stanford in the fall, half hour away Stiles.” He said frustrated. “Did you really dump me just so I’d go away to college because that was never going to happen?” He said stepping towards him tentatively, “I applied as a joke, they had free college admission week, Danny bet me twenty bucks I couldn’t get in, hell I didn’t even think they’d look at my application let alone let me in Stiles! I didn’t even want to go!!” he choked trough the beginnings of tears. No, they had no right to be here right now.
Stiles stared at him wide eyed “but its Yale.”
“Yeah, it’s Yale, which is ridiculously far away. You of all people should know, I hate new places, and meeting new people, and I didn’t want to leave you!” he sighed, “Did you ever think about that when you left. That maybe I’d rather stay here and go to a fucking community college if it meant that I didn’t have to wake up without you.
He was angry, and confused, and tears were pouring down his face without his permission. “I bet you didn’t, because you just walked out. It’s been three fucking months, Stiles!”
He tried to steady his breathing that was coming in short labored bursts. Stiles stood still, hands still buried deep in his pockets. “I thought—I didn’t want to hold you back. I didn’t think you’d stay here without me.” He said frowning. “And then you did and I tried to justify it to myself, told myself that you would be better off without me. You’d find someone who wasn’t so damaged and hyperactive and didn’t drive everyone crazy. Someone who can keep up with you when you talk about Astro-physics. Because no matter how many books I read, I can never seem to keep up.”
Isaac rolled his eyes, “you’re an idiot.” He replied trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes, “this place, it’s where my family is, Boyd, Derek, Scott, Erica… hell even Jackson when he’s not being a prick. I’m not going to just up and leave. And just in case you haven’t noticed I’m pretty messed up too.” He said
Hell if either of them was more messed up it was probably him. He didn’t trust people; he barely spoke when they went out. It took him three months to actually be able to hold a conversation with the sheriff; Isaac knew he was damaged goods.
“Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I was in love with you?” They hadn’t said it, not in so many words but it was there. Under the surface, at least he had thought so.
“Everything I love falls apart” Stiles said with a frown, and Isaac’s heart dropped to his stomach, he stood up, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ shoulders.
“I guess it’s a good thing that I’m already broken.”