A/N: Hey there, first pic, probably one shot. If you like it, give it a review. If you'd like this to be more than just a one shot, let me know and I'll see what I can do about writing a few more chapters.

This is my first time writing in first person, and although I've edited it, there may be a few glitches. Side note, this is set circa season 1, before Isaac is bitten.

Enjoy.

I remembered the first time I saw him, it was in English, our first year at Beacon Hills High. We worked on a passage analysis on a Jane Austen novel together, one he had neglected to read. I remember detailing the passage, and later, the whole novel to him, and he smiled awkwardly. This year, we share a few classes: English, Chemistry, Gym, and History. We don't talk often, I think he's just as shy as me, but every single class, he always sits next to me when he's given the opportunity. Well, almost.

To say I like him, would be an understatement. If he didn't notice the way I stare at his strong cheekbones, defined jawline, his deep blue eyes, long blond lashes, his perfect nose, and kissable lips, his luscious curls, his gorgeous smile, his honey-like voice - oh my god, is he asking me something?

"Kara?" I blinked stupidly, mouth gaping in confusion.

"What?" He blinked back. "I mean, sorry, I zoned out."

"Yeah," he chuckled, his red lips separating to show off his immaculate teeth, "chemistry gets like that. Do you get question five?"

"Oh, um, I have…not even looked at it," I shook my head and bit my lip nervously. The question wasn't exactly easy but I was sure I could work it out. "Here, you've got to-"

The bell rang, signalling the end of class, "saved by the bell, I guess." He mumbled quietly.

The teacher assigned us the rest of the page's questions for homework by the next day, but I barely heard over the sound of my heart thumping in my ears as I prepared myself for the dreaded question. "How about you come over after school and we can study together?"

My knees knocked, my bottom lip trembled despite my best efforts to conceal that by biting down on it hard, and his blue eyes stared deep into mine, like he wasn't expecting the question.

"You don't have to,"

"I'd love to, sorry, I just, I can't stay for long, I have work tonight." He smiled awkwardly, speaking softly as we gathered our things and headed towards our lockers. I noticed his sleeve lifting at his wrist, a deep, purplish-blue bruise hinting under the hem, but I didn't say anything. He often had bruises and sometimes cuts, usually on his arms from what I could tell, but there was an occasional bruise on his face. He always told me it was from lacrosse, even though he didn't play often, he and his dad practice a lot. I supposed that there would be heaps more on his body that he kept covered up, but when I think about what's under Isaac Lahey's clothes, well, let's not get into that mess…

After school, I drove home, waiting for Isaac to return on his bike. Since he needed to get to work later that evening, there was no need for me to drive him. I fixed him a sandwich while I waited, since I'm always hungry after school, I figured he must be. Turns out, he was.

"Thank you, you didn't have to," he mumbled with an awkward grin on his face before nearly stuffing his face with food.

"It's like you haven't eaten all day," I spoke, watching him while I ate my own.

"I haven't," he said between bites, "I, uh, forgot to bring food today."

"And breakfast?" He paused before answering.

"I don't eat breakfast."

"Tut, tut, you know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Did I sound casual enough? Isaac hesitated again, looking down and nodding, talking softly.

"Yeah, yeah, I, um, I know," I was worried if I'd crossed a line. Isaac wasn't particularly vocal so often, when I talked to him, which was in fact not very often at all, I read his body language. He always kept his shoulders forward, his body curled, unless he was relaxed. He was conserved, but sometimes, he reminded me of a scared puppy with his tail between his legs. He kept his head down, unless directly spoken to, his eyes were sharp though, as though he was waiting for something to happen. And sometimes, he fiddled, most particularly with his fingers, biting his nails. During chemistry quizzes, he did that a lot, he gets pretty nervous around then.

Right now, his shoulders were forward, and his head was down.

"I'm sorry if I…said something wrong," I all but whispered.

"No, no, it's okay. Thank you for the food." He still didn't look me directly in the eyes, and fiddled with his fingers so I was sure that something was off. I hadn't meant to, but I guess, these things happen eventually… "Why don't we go upstairs?"

"What?" He wanted to go upstairs? With me?

"Uh, yeah, so we can study, that's still where you study, right?"

"Oh, of course, yes, that is where I study, yes, that's right." Could I be anymore awkward? It had been a long time since he had been to my house, let alone my room, but was that really an excuse? Yes, actually, it was. A perfect one. Isaac was in my house, and is walking up to my room behind me, and is being really cute and precious and oh god I wish I could kiss him right now.

We actually got quite a bit of work done. Even when the handsome boy sat next to me on the bed, sometimes nudging my shoulder with his, I managed to gather my wits and help him with the chemistry homework. For the most part, he seemed to understand the gist, but struggled to retain everything he was taught. Chemistry was…not his forte. Not that it's mine, but I've always been pretty good academically, mostly because I just remember well.

"Your room is different," Isaac's smooth, soft voice rung as he eyed off my room like a curious puppy, preparing to sniff every inch of the room to dedicate it memory, "in a good way, I mean."

He gulped, wary if he stepped out of line. "I didn't realise there was a bad way, but yeah, I painted it, and I got a bigger bed."

"For all the people you bring over," he mumbled almost so quietly I didn't catch it. I laughed, cheeks flushing.

"Yeah, no, I don't have people in my room, I mean, except my mom when she's cleaning, I mean, not to say I don't ever have people here, because like, I do, but not in that way, not on my bed, or anything, oh, God, not like that, I need to shut up, why is my mouth still moving, please stop…"

"You're so cute," Isaac chuckled, interrupting my stupid blabbering, letting me focus on panic instead.

"You…think I'm cute?" His eyes went wide, mouth dropping open as he tried to think of something to say.

"Well, yeah, I-I don't mean in a, um, in an inappropriate way, just you know, friend cute." He swallowed, and I felt my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. All I could hear was 'friend'.

"I'm sorry, I should go, I have that thing,"

"Work?"

"Yeah, work," he grabbed his things together in haste, "my dad will be upset if I'm late. Thanks for all your help, I might do better in chemistry this year than just failing."

He laughed, though it was empty, as if he was remembering that failing grade. I supposed he was pretty devastated to be failing something, there's always so much pressure in high school to be amazing at everything, especially academics. A lot of parents pushed their kids to be the absolute best, usually with the best intentions.

"Yeah, that's fine, maybe we can get together sometime again, I'd be happy to help you," he nodded in response, a lopsided smile plastered on his cheeks.

"That'd be great," we walked back down to the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

That night, I couldn't help but cuddle my pillow like a giddy child, thinking non-stop about our interactions today, the way he breathed when he didn't understand something, the way his eyes lit up when he did, his shoulder brushing mine, the smell of his aftershave when I got a little closer, the way we would've kissed if I just had the guts to tell him how I feel, and let's not forget, how he thinks of me as a friend…

We continued the same routine fairly regularly, three times a week over the next few weeks around his lacrosse practices, and he started improving on our pop quizzes Mr. Harris liked to give out. We started being more comfortable around each other, to the point where, after a gruelling twenty minutes of trying to work something out together, we might even hug. We started eating lunch together - probably because neither of us really had any real friends - and I started visiting his lacrosse practices and games. We never studied at his house, but it didn't matter, my parents were never home as it was so it made it a little easier to study, and according to Isaac, he preferred studying at my place than his. As for me, I didn't mind as long as I could shamelessly stare at his cute butt when he walked in front of me.

Some days we just didn't study, at least on Fridays. We just hung out and watched movies with popcorn and soda. We laid down on my bed with my laptop in front of us, enjoying each other's company, being at peace with ourselves in that moment.

"Isaac," I spoke one Friday night, begging to ask him a question that had been weighing down on my shoulders for the longest time.

"Kara," he responded, smiling his usual lopsided, warm smile. I wouldn't have asked him if I had someone else to ask, namely a best friend, but, well, to me, it felt like he was my best friend. So what else do you do when your best friend and crush are the same person? No, really, not a rhetorical question, I have absolutely no idea.

"You're my friend,"

"I'd like to think so," I start these conversations off well.

"I was just wondering," I took a deep breath, and he smiled at me once again, egging me to go on, "how do you tell a friend that you want to…you know, be more than 'just friends'? I mean, in a, um, romantic kind of way, if that makes sense?"

He looked down, thinking or something. "That depends."

"On what?" He looked up at me with a grin, but something was off.

"Who's the lucky guy?" I laughed, and pushed his shoulder lightly.

"I'll tell you once I find the stupid courage to tell him." I bit my lip nervously. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach, my hands shaking.

"Well, I, uh, can't say I have much experience with this kind of thing. I asked Lydia Martin out freshman year, but she just laughed and walked away." He shrugged. "That was kind of humiliating. But, I don't know, you might have a totally different experience."

Over the last few weeks, Isaac has been able to string together a few more sentences. It was nice, comforting. He didn't babble like me and he always said something that soothed the butterflies in my tummy, like his voice was honey. "You asked out Lydia Martin?"

"Yeah, kind of regret that."

"Have you ever asked anybody else out?" I prodded. I just wanted to know more and more about him, even if it broke my heart, I wanted to take the risk.

"I've considered it," he spoke carefully.

"Why didn't you?" I pushed further. He just laughed. I guessed he was used to my insane curiosity.

"This is…going to sound really stupid, so, don't laugh,"

"Cross my heart," I performed the action with my finger, earning a grateful nod in response.

"I just don't think I deserve it. I feel like something would go wrong, and it'd be all my fault. I ruin everything I touch, and I couldn't stand it if I ruined someone else's life." His eyes bore deep into mine, and in an instant, I could feel what he felt, his sadness, his regret, his indecisiveness, his anger.

"You haven't ruined my life." I voiced with conviction.

"Yet."

"Not ever, you're my best friend, you've made me happier in these last few weeks than anyone has in my entire life, don't forget that, you've only made my life better." His eyes watered, and so did mine.

"When you see this guy next, just tell him straight up, I like you, and if he doesn't look like he's about to throw up, just tell him you'd like to go out next week." He said everything so surely, like he was convinced no one could say 'no' to me.

"And if he does look like he wants to throw up?" The boy shrugged.

"He's not worth your time." Isaac said with finality. "If he says he's not interested, then understand it's because he doesn't realise that he's turning down the most beautiful girl in the school."

"Isaac," I was lost for words, so instead, I rose up on my knees, sitting on my feet. I was speechless.

"Uh, sorry, if that was too forward, or something, I didn't mean to…" he trailed, sitting up onto his butt, bringing his knees into his chest.

"No, that's, what you said, that was…perfect," he looked up at me, his face blank but his eyes screaming. I just wish I knew what they were trying to say. I crawled towards him, and sat as humanly close to him, holding his hand gently in my own. They were rougher than mine, and much larger, and so warm. "Did you mean all of that?"

"Every word," he whispered. I couldn't stop myself, I couldn't contain the urges boiling in my tummy, I let loose the feelings pent up for so long and let myself finally kiss his red lips.

Softly, almost hesitantly, I let myself fall into it, bringing my hand up to his cheek in attempt to bring him in deeper. He obliged, sucking softly on my bottom lip, and trailing his hand up behind my head, keeping us close. I moaned a little into the kiss, his lips as soft as I imagined, but it was short lived. He pulled away with a deep breath, separating himself from me, removing his hand and mine.

"I'm sorry, I, I need to go." Was all he said before rushing off, down the stairs and out the door.

A few different emotions passed through me in that moment. Confusion, pain, sadness, anger.

He kissed me back, he held me for a mere moment, before pushing me away. What did that mean? Did he like me? Did he not like me and he just needed to kiss someone? Was he mad? Scared? I was scared. Terrified, that I just made the worst mistake and didn't even have a friend to talk to about it.

Needless to say, the night felt longer than it ever had. Isaac didn't answer my calls that weekend, and I knew he was avoiding me Monday morning back at school. He couldn't avoid me for long since we had English together second period, though that didn't mean he didn't try. He was seated at the very back by the window - he loved the window seat - and I sat by him, waiting for our teacher to finally arrive.

"Can we talk?" I half whispered to him. Everyone was loudly chatting about, so they were unlikely to hear us anyway, but I'm overly cautious sometimes. Sometimes. Clearly.

"Nothing to talk about." He stared out the window, jaw set. I noticed he had a bruise fading on his cheekbone but said nothing.

"How about how you walked out on me on Friday?" It felt harsh, but necessary. Some things needed to be done.

"I didn't walk out."

"Will you at least let me apologise?" I nearly whined, trying to get him to look at me, glimpse at me, pretend he was even slightly interested in me.

"What for?" He sighed, fiddling with his fingers. I noticed offhandedly that his nails were dirty, probably because he worked late last night. He usually did on Sundays.

"For doing what I did, it wasn't fair of me, and I'm sorry for ruining what we had." I wasn't sure why I said what I said. It wasn't entirely true, but I supposed at this point, I didn't really care. I cared so much for him, that I would say almost anything. I was sorry for upsetting him, but not sorry for the kiss we shared, especially because I could tell, he at least enjoyed that a little.

"You didn't…you didn't ruin anything." He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Can we talk later? I'll swing by your place after school."

I nodded in acceptance, knowing there wasn't much I could do or say in that moment.

Waiting the entire day, however, was painful. Especially since we had gym and history together on Mondays, and seeing Isaac in his gym shorts was God's gift to me, especially sweaty, sexy Isaac, but I tried to hide my attraction and the fact that I've thought about Isaac like that way too much.

The end of the day finally arrived, and like usual, I fixed Isaac a sandwich while I waited for him to get here. Usually he arrived about five minutes later than me, but when fifteen minutes came and went, I started worrying he wasn't going to show.

Twenty, then thirty, and I gave up. He didn't want to see me.

My parents wouldn't be home until six, sometimes seven o'clock. They were both professors at the local college. They were actually at Harvard until they wanted a nice quiet life in Beacon Hills. I always hated them for this quiet life until I met Isaac. Now, I wished for something else: for me to keep my stupid mouth shut, none of this would've happened if not for me.

What made it all the worse was that he literally told me, physically said the words, that he didn't ask anyone out because he felt like he ruined everything he touched. I should have respected that, and I didn't. No wonder he wanted to ignore me…

I heard my parents walk through the door. They were early for once. My mother asked me if I wanted lasagna for dinner, and my dad asked me if I had a good day at school. I answered them both, 'yes', before saying I had some work to catch up on. I sat on my bed, and tried desperately to revise the economics reading, but my brain wasn't functioning. As I threw my workbook to the other side of the bed, there was a knock at the door.

"Not now, mom." She knocked again, and I got up, throwing the door open to tell my mother that I was very busy when I came face to face with blue eyes and honey blond hair. "Oh."

"Hey, Kara," he twitched his mouth as if in attempt to smile. "Your mom let me in, she said to just come up. Can I come in?"

I didn't say anything, just gestured to my open room, closing the door behind him.

"I was going to be here on time, I just forgot I had last minute practice. Coach only called it this morning." I nodded. I didn't know what to say. He had an excuse, I supposed, and I guessed there was no point in wondering whether or not he was lying. He was here, and that was more than I could ask.

"You should be more careful at practice." I said, pointing out the small graze on his collar that peeked under his favourite black leather jacket. I didn't realise he could get hurt there with all the padding he's supposed to wear when he played.

"Oh, yeah, it's a, uh, violent sport," he chuckled awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," I let the words fall out, "for being an idiot. You pretty much told me you didn't want a relationship, and I went on ahead and did what I did-"

"Kara-"

"-and I should have respected that, but I didn't, and I am so sorry for that-"

"Kara, I-"

"-but I can't say that I didn't like it because that was the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses, I mean, not like I have much to compare it to, but I know you liked it as much as I did, but I hope you don't think I'm a bitch or something, because it won't ever happen again-"

"Kara, if you'd just let me-"

"-unless you actually want it to happen, because I definitely would, not that I'm desperate or anything, just that-mmph!" His hand covered my mouth, effectively silencing me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he laughed a real laugh.

"Kara, stop babbling, and let me tell you how I feel." His beautiful eyes stared into mine with utter sincerity, and I couldn't help but nod and sit down on the bed, preparing for the worst, all the while, hoping for the best. "You're right, I did like that kiss, and, and I really l-like you. You're beautiful, smart, funny, you're patient when I don't get stupid chemistry stuff, you're always willing to lend me a hand with anything and everything, you're always making sure I'm okay, and I'm pretty sure you see right through me when I'm not, even if you don't understand why. I like you, a lot, a-and, I've been wanting to ask you out for ages, but…"

His voice trailed off, and I finished his sentence, "but you feel like you don't deserve happiness, and that the universe would break us apart if you ever that glimpse of happiness."

"Yeah…" He sat down beside me, grabbing my hand in both of his. They were clammy, and shaking slightly. "I've already ruined our first kiss, my first kiss ever-"

"-mine, too."

"You kiss really well for your first time."

"Thanks, likewise." I rested my head on his shoulder, letting him continue.

"I ruined our first kiss, and the universe pretty much told me I couldn't come see you tonight, and when I saw your dad, I was ninety percent sure he was ready to lecture me about the after effects of me hurting you, and even though I really want us to work, I…I guess I'm just scared…"

"Scared of what?" I dropped my free hand on his knee, drawing patterns through the denim cloth as his soft, near-whispering voice spoke,

"Scared I'll hurt you, a-and that I-I'll be, I'll be bad for you, th-that the uni-universe will break us apart…"

"Hey, Isaac?" I lifted my head from his shoulder, and looked him dead in the eye, gently putting a hand up to his cheek, rubbing my thumb back and forth over his smooth skin. He cocked his head cutely, as if asking me to continue. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah," He responded. We were both shaking as our heads moved closer, our noses touching, his hands moving over to my thighs, mine wrapping around the back of his neck. All I could think about was how magical it felt right now, how the skin under his hands burned with a need to be touched more, how close and far apart our lips were. It felt like electricity passed through me when our lips finally met, softly, unmoving, the both of us sucking gently on the other's reddening lips. My face felt hot, my hands sweaty, but I'd never felt something so right, not even the first time we did this.

Our lips separated for half a second, before coming together once again, stronger, more confidently. His other hand found its way into my hair, pulling me closer to him, and nothing in the world could feel better than this moment.

We parted for air, our hearts beating erratically as one.

"Isaac?" I panted, our foreheads meeting. My eyes were closed shut as I tried with all my might to calm my breathing and heart rate.

"Kara?" He panted out, sounding as out of breath as me.

"That felt like a pretty big sign that the universe wants us to be together," I wasn't sure what came over me when I said that, perhaps the hype from the kiss had made me delirious, or perhaps that was just the kiss, but I knew that the rising confidence in me was strange and foreign.

"I think you're right," he pecked my lips before falling back on the bed, arms wide and inviting me to join him. I did so without question, embracing the warmth he provided as he embraced me, my head sat comfortably under his chin, ear pressed against his hard chest. I didn't notice his flinching in pain, and he didn't say anything about it.

"Would you like to do that on a more regular basis?" He laughed at me, his heartbeat apparent to my eager ears.

"You always say things in the weirdest way possible, don't you?"

"I think I could be weirder." I smiled as he shook his head.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." His hand rubbed my back as his deep voice reverberated through his chest, "I would love to do that on a more regular basis. Kara Moore, will you go out with me?"

"Isaac Lahey, I'd love nothing more."

A/N: That's the end of that! Like I said before, if you want a few more chapters, let me know. I love Isaac a heap so maybe I can string together a few more words for him if you guys are interested enough.

Hope you liked it, give me a review if you did, a favourite and/or a follow. Much love!

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, or any characters associated with Teen Wolf. I only own Kara Moore.