AN: First chapter of my first Isaac fanfiction. The title is inspired by the xx song 'Shelter'

It takes place during season 1, so it will show Isaac pre-bite, and will progress in correspondence to how the actual seasons do. Of course, there will be changes, as this is involving original characters and story lines. :)

Enjoy!

Could you tell,

I was left lost and lonely?

Could you tell,

Things ain't worked out my way?

Today wasn't any different than yesterday, or last week, or tomorrow, or next month. Today I would roll out of bed, I'd yawn, I'd crack my back, I'd unlock my phone for any messages I got while I was unconscious. There never was any.

I'd rub my eyes, yawn again, and continue lying in bed for an hour. Maybe I'd decide to get up and wash off all the filth I accumulated while rolling around in my sheets. I'd make sure the water was hot enough to sting a little bit, and after 30 minutes of standing in the rising steam I'd get out, drying my body off with the towel I used yesterday. I'd brush my teeth. I'd comb my hair.

It was routine, branded into my brain when I realized that every morning was not like Christmas, and I wouldn't wake up to half eaten cookies and presents wrapped in green paper, begging to be ripped to shreds and then tossed aside for the next shiny thing I saw.

High school was definitely not Christmas. Maybe it was the first day of freshman year, maybe it will be the last day senior year. But I was a sophomore, I was stuck in the days after Christmas where the lights looked insipid, the balls of wrapping paper littered on my living room rug made me want to vomit, and the peanut butter fudge my grandma had made tasted like dog shit.

For some people, high school wasn't half bad. Some people woke up with a twinkle in their eye, with a hop in their step, ready to accompany their friends as they breezed through classes and gossiped about what that girl is wearing and about who that boy lost his virginity to. I was not one of those people. I don't mean that in a, "I'm so unique, I hate high school, everybody, look at me I read and I listen to classic rock! I'm better than everybody! Ha!" I really actually honestly hated high school, and the way it would make my clothes itchy, and made me feel like my hair was too frizzy.

Today, I woke up. I took a shower. I washed my hair with shampoo and conditioner, I shaved my legs from the knee down, I brushed my teeth while I was in there to save a little time, and I stood there for a solid fifteen minutes longing over the fact that I was dreading going to a new high school. High school was bad enough already, but it was a serial killer horror movie when you didn't know anybody there, and I didn't want to be the stupid girl who screamed too soon and got her throat slit in front of her boyfriend and best friend she had dragged along on a remote camping trip. I wanted to graduate, and if going through Beacon Hills High School without being acknowledged made it any less painful, then so be it.

The little things he noticed about her is what made her more desirable than any other girl giggling and flipping their hair through the halls. He shouldn't have noticed her first. Most people notice the girl that has put every fiber of their being into looking good that day, he should look at them, they worked hard for it, they deserved it. But he was looking right at her.

She was wearing a heather grey v neck that showed part of her sternum, but was still as modest as a v neck could get and covered every inch of cleavage he undoubtedly knew was there. She had a dainty gold necklace on, with a thin gold chain, and a small lion pendant weighing it down. Her hair was natural and loose, she had almost black hair that was crazy and curly and nearly swallowed her thin body whole. Her jeans were always skinny, dark denim, and fit her small legs gorgeously. They bunched up at the bottom, she could only be a couple inches above five feet, and were met with the tops of bright sunflower yellow converse.

It was her face that drew him in, or maybe it was her presence, he wasn't sure. But her olive toned skin that was dotted with freckles along her nose and apples of her cheeks were like magnets, almost forcing him to be attracted to her, to want to get to know her. Her eyes were a light shade of minty green, the kind that made you stare. They were outlined with strong black lashes, making them stand out even more. Her lips were pale pink, a gorgeous contrast to her naturally darker skin.

Every day she would pass through the halls undetected, much like himself, but she didn't seem to mind as much as she did. At lunch, he would look over at her reading a yellowing book, or writing her own thoughts into the tattered spiral notebook she carried with her at all times. It was black, and had yellow retro-style daisies on the front, the corners of the cover dog-eared. Even though the cafeteria was filled with the continuous white noise of couples fighting, silverware clinking against pale blue plastic trays, and people shouting from table to table, she never seemed to look up. It was one of the many things that made him admire her, made him want to get to know her a bit better.

He didn't know much about her. He knew her name, Fallon, but only because it was announced on the first day of school. He looked it up the night he found out about it. It was of Irish and Gaelic origin, and its definition was, "Superiority; descended from a ruler."

She mostly wore t-shirts and hoodies, but sometimes she'd come to school in a loose sweater that draped elegantly over her shoulders. It could probably fit three of her inside it. On those days, she'd wear her hair in a giant bun on the back of her head, and he liked watching throughout the day as one by one, thick, dark curls would fall loose.

She used a Milk & Honey Nivea lip balm, and liked to wear rings on her thumb, and the only earrings he saw her wear were large pearl studs. She used a pen with bright pink ink for her notes, she always sat criss cross applesauce in her chair, she never painted her nails, and she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life.

It was October, and she sat in her assigned seat in Mr. Harris' room, looking out of the large window at the golden autumn trees that seemed to go on for miles. She was in a daze, studying how a single leaf could hold so many shades of yellow, red, orange, and green, and still blend beautifully in with the rest of the landscape. It took Mr. Harris slamming his pointer repeatedly against the space of black plastic tabletop right in front of her face for her to realize that she was in class.

"I know you hate my class and all, but would it kill you to look ahead, at least?" The strict teacher she had grown to not like very much, wet his lips and peered above his thick black rimmed glasses. He opened his mouth, preparing to speak again.

"Lahey is going to sit beside you from now on, since you're both without a partner. Try not to catch each other on fire."

A tall, somewhat lanky boy looked at her with a curious, timid nature in his eyes, as if he was unsure whether or not she'd actually catch him on fire. Trying to dismiss his obvious fear towards her, she patted the bright orange chair beside her and gave a little, itty bitty, hint of a smile. He pushed his hair in place and sat down.

"I'm Fallon, and I solemnly swear not to pour acid on you, light you on fire, or cut you with a scalpel while in this classroom."

He gave a one sided smile, the kind that usually oozes sex appeal, but on him it looked innocent and playful.

"What about outside the classroom?"

"I make no promises," she shifted her eyes to look at him, and the light pink his cheeks had turned gave a boyish presence to his sharp jawline and strong cheekbones. He had blue topaz eyes, and his hair was right in the middle of dark blonde and light brown. He looked a lot older than a sophomore in high school, he towered above 6 feet, and had wide, broad shoulders that made him look like a football player, if Beacon Hills even had a football team. The school was relatively small for California.

"I apologize in advance, though," the boy spoke softly, and tapped his pen against the desk rapidly.

"And why would that be, Mr. Lahey?" She did a joking imitation of Mr. Harris, to show the shy boy she wasn't that scary.

"Chemistry isn't really my forte, I must admit," He looked down as he spoke, shame showing in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, I'm no science genius either. I'm not a genius in anything really, so it's cool! No worries." She spoke with a warm tone, like melted chocolate, every word oozing off of her lips like she was born to say that exact combination of letters. The boy turned a bit pink again, and rested his chin onto the palm of his hand, his curls bouncing as he shifted to look at her.

"So, you and Stiles, huh? You two seem pretty close," She wasn't sure if he was making a statement or asking her question.

"Yeah! He's great, really sweet, really funny. He and his dad have helped me a lot since I got here, maneuvering the town and all. They told me about Aunt Mae's diner."

"You go to Aunt Mae's?" the boy perked up, almost like a dog does when you entertain the idea of going on a walk by swinging the leash in front of his eager eyes. "I love it there, seriously, the best apple pie in town."

"I agree, definitely. If you stay later at night it clears out, and is really quiet and calm. I do my homework there, I get too distracted anywhere else." She smiled at him, placing her index and middle finger nonchalantly on his forearm. He flinched, as if he was doing something he wasn't supposed to and suddenly realized it.

The rest of the class went by in silence, except for Mr. Harris repeating directly from the purple textbook in a monotonous manner. Fallon singled out the noise of the ticking clock, counting the seconds as they tick, ticked away, for the remainder of the day before the shrill noise of the bell dismissed them for the rest of the day. She promised she'd meet up with Stiles after school to go to In 'n' Out Burger with him, a new Monday tradition. It wasn't healthy in any aspect for her, but it tasted great, and that was all that mattered.

"Stilinski!" She called after him, the skinny brunette whipping his head around as she jogged towards him.

"I was thinking the double cheeseburger with a strawberry milkshake." He gripped onto his backpack straps, excitedly running off to his jeep.

"I'll get the same thing, but with a vanilla milkshake, I think if I have another strawberry one I'll vomit pure pink."

"Right before we eat, yes thank you, lovely, that really geared up my appetite." Stiles hopped into the driver's sit, ramming the keys into the ignition and fluffing his hair up into its bedhead 'do. She searched through Stiles' CD collection, picking out the Dude Ranch Blink 182 album, quickly skipping ahead to Dick Lips, her favorite of the track list.

"Have you talked to Scott lately?" Fallon asked, because she knew that Scott was spending a lot of time with Allison, and it made Stiles angry to the core.

"Ha! You're funny, that's really funny, you've got a lot of jokes. I might talk to him if Allison didn't consume every last thought he had in his little pea brain. Literally, even if I did talk to him, it would be 'Ally this, Ally that, blah blah blah, I'm in love, Ally, I love Ally, Ally' and do you really think I want to deal with that? Absolutely not." Stiles continued on a rant, but she looked out of the window and zoned out, looking at the red and yellow trees blurring together along the side of the road, thinking about how shy the boy Isaac had been today. Maybe everyday, she didn't know, she hadn't paid much attention to him until Mr. Harris had put them together for classwork.

"Do you know a boy named Isaac?"

"I know of about 12 Isaacs, do you want to specify a bit for me, or should I just go through the list? Because I can, let's start with Sir Isaac Newton. Born in sixteen fort-"

"Lahey, I think. Really tall, blue eyes, could probably slit a throat with his jawline."

"Oh! I know him," Stiles looked as if he was in deep thought, scrunching his eyebrows together, "He's on the lacrosse team. He doesn't talk much, but nobody ever really thinks anything of it. His dad's a real hard ass at the games, if he goes, which is rare. Isaac doesn't get in much, but when he does, he usually does pretty well. One time he got knocked down, and was down for about 2 seconds before his dad started yelling about how he was 'weak pussy that didn't deserve to be on the team.'"

"Wow, that's harsh," She thought back to how he had acted scared, like he wouldn't get her approval. It might've been because of his dad not really showing his own approval, that would have to be rough. Of course, she couldn't really ask him, how was she supposed to explain that she and Stiles had talked about him behind his back? It hadn't been in a negative light, but judging from his seemingly low confidence, he'd assume it was anyway. He was cute, though, and she wanted to know about him, whether he was willing at first or not.

AN: Sorry if it's a bit slow! I had to have a way to introduce the characters somehow! The action comes soon

Song used for the lyrics at the beginning is Infinity by the xx