Isaac roamed the empty hallway after the last class of the day, glancing in each room looking for Lydia. It wasn't like her to skip their last couple of classes, so he had grown worried about her and had offered to bring her her homework. Scott had given him an enigmatic look, but Isaac had simply shrugged it off and acted like his offer had meant nothing and he was just doing it to be a good friend. Well, he did want to be a good friend to Lydia, but he also thought it'd be a good opportunity to spend a few brief moments with her - if she wasn't already with somebody else, that is.

His last stop was the library and that was where he found her, hunched at the table over a sketch pad. Smiling, Isaac approaching her and hovered behind Lydia, studying her drawing. He hadn't known she could draw and was rather surprised at how good she was. He began to wonder just how much she kept hidden from other people and why.

Lydia lifted her gaze but kept drawing, sensing a presence behind her. She figured sooner or later someone would find her since skipping classes wasn't like her. This privacy, which had been so nice, would only last so long. "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell me what is is you want?" Lydia asked sharply, tilting her head to the side as she shaded in a corner of the tree she was drawing.

A slight smirk graced Isaac's features and then he took a seat beside Lydia at the table. She looked over at him, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw it was him. "I brought your homework," he explained, setting the papers down in front of her.

"Thank you," she said airily, taking the papers from him and slipping them into her purse. She resumed her drawing, conscious of Isaac watching her out of the corner of her eye. With pencil in her hand, she hesitated over the drawing and then set her hand down again and looked up at Isaac once more. "Is there something else I can help you with?"

"You're good," Isaac replied, ignoring the attitude she gave him with an amused smile on his face. "I didn't know you could draw. Have you ever tried drawing people?" he asked, looking back down at her drawing and reaching out his hand, his fingertips touching the edge of her sketch pad. The side of his hand brushed against hers.

"Thank you," she said again, but this time there was a hint of surprise in her tone. She took the moment to study Isaac as he gazed at her drawing, taking in his features and finding him handsome. She wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed him before. Not the way she had noticed other boys. He was certainly good looking and he was currently giving her that sensation of butterflies in her stomach. She held his gaze, admiring his electric blue eyes. She dropped her own eyes down to his lips when Isaac reached his hand out and touched his fingertips to the edge of her sketch pad. Feeling his skin brush against hers sent a tingling sensation up along her arm and she dropped her gaze down to his hand and moved her own hand back, looking up at him once more. "No, people are too complicated," she answered, frowning slightly when she saw a hint of disappointment cloud his features. "And there's a lot you don't know about me." She gazed at him for a moment longer and then quickly looked away, picking her pencil back up and resuming her drawing.

"I'll bet there is," he said, a broad smile on his face and a glint of mischief in his eyes. Lydia paused in her drawing and slowly looked up and over at him, his tone of voice catching her off guard. The way she looked at him made Isaac blush and look away for a moment. "There's always three lives," he said. "At least, that's what I think. Public, private, and secret. This right here is your secret life. The part of your life you don't want anyone knowing because you're afraid of being judged, maybe? I'm not really sure. I know you're not most girls. You put on this facade, but deep down inside there are many, many layers of Lydia Martin that many of us have yet to reveal."

Lydia scoffed at first, the idea of Isaac Lahey telling her all this so unbelievable. But as he went on, her breath caught in her throat and she felt the backs of her eyes sting. Swallowing hard, she had to look down and run her tongue along her lips, focus anywhere but his eyes, which were focused intently on her. He was right, though. She'd put on a pretense for years and had only recently begun to dispense with everything, not caring with what people thought about her. Taking a deep breath once she realized he was finished talking, Lydia forced that facade Isaac had been talking about and looked him in the eyes, a sweet and flirtatious smile on her face. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she asked, leaning in close to him as she picked up her sketch pad and pencil with one hand and stood up.

"I would," Isaac replied, smiling at her. He dropped his gaze to her lips as she stood up but remained where he was and didn't make a move, which surprised Lydia. Most guys would've just gone for a kiss without really thinking about it.

Turning around, Lydia closed her sketch pad and slipped her pencils back into their proper places in the cases. Isaac's eyes flicked to her Chloe bag, sitting tempting on it's own right beside him on the table. Sucking on the inside of his cheek, he reached into his pocket, lifted the flap of her purse and dropped the sheet of paper into her bag.

Lydia swirled around just as Isaac leaned back against his chair, smiling at her innocently. She eyed him suspiciously and then reached out for her bag. "Hmph," she said, side-eyeing him as she slung her Chloe bag over her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you, Isaac," she said, and was genuine this time. She let out a sigh and a smile, the latter soft and with closed lips.

"It was nice talking to you, too," he said, even if he'd done most of the talking.

Lydia was almost out the door when she stopped walking and turned around, looking back at Isaac sitting alone at the table. It made her sad how lonely he looked and she realized that must be how she looked to others sometimes – sitting there on her own, reading or drawing. Pulling herself up, she walked back over to him and asked, "Do you need a ride?"

Looking up at Lydia when she came back over, he was taken aback by her question and hesitated. "Uh, no, I don't. Thanks, though. I've been staying with Scott. Kind of," he added, sheepishly.

"Kind of?" Lydia asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Isaac hesitated for a moment, looking up at her. Finally, he sighed and tilted his head to one side.
"Okay, look, don't tell him or Mrs. McCall? I stay at Derek's loft now and then. I like being on my own sometimes. The seclusion it's -"

"Invigorating. It teaches you how not to be defined by others," she added, staring off into the distance and zoning out for a few brief moments. In those few brief moments, Isaac studied her with a smile on his face. When she snapped out of her reverie and met his gaze, she burst out laughing and ran a hand through her hair. "Well, if you don't need a ride, I guess I'll go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Lydia flashed Isaac a smile and then left, Isaac watching her walk away until she rounded the corner and was out of sight. He remained sitting where he was, his hand resting on the table. Rubbing his lips together, Isaac turned to look at his hands as he flexed his fingers and then he finally got up after a few minutes. He grabbed what books he needed and slipped them in his bag and after some hesitation, decided to go to Derek's loft, spend some time on his own.

Outside, Lydia dug around in her bag for her keys. Hissing when she felt something cut her finger, she withdrew her hand and sucked on her index finger and peered inside her bag for the menace when she saw what it was. Eyes widening, she reached inside and pulled out the slip of paper. Setting her Chloe bag on the hood of her car and read the hand-written verses on the notebook paper,

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart."

Inhaling sharply, Lydia looked up and took off running but then cursed when she realized she forgot her back. She turned back around and ran back to her car, grabbing her bag and then taking off again for the school. She ran as quickly as she could in her heels, up the steps, down the hallway and to the library.

"Isaac -" she began, but when she saw he was gone and the library was empty, she stood there with her arm hanging limply by her side. The piece of paper slowly fell to the floor as she looked around, her lips pursing together as a sadness filled her. She'd left her bag on its own for a few minutes earlier in the day, so any number of people could have come and gone, slipped the poem in her bag. She'd wanted to ask Isaac if he recognized the poem or at least the hand-writing from class, but since he was gone...

Looking down, Lydia bent over and picked up the piece of paper, looking it over again. A smile lit up her features and she bit down on her bottom lip, glancing up. She slipped the piece of paper into the pocket above her heart and turned on her heel, walking quickly out of the library and back out to her car. Should she put Isaac on her list of suspects or not?

Throughout the night and even into lunch the next day at school, Lydia attempted to draw Isaac. She did the best she could to conjure an image of him from her memory, but that had frustratingly failed and about fifty crumpled sheets later she had given up. She liked a challenge and ever since seeing that hint of disappointment in his gaze, she felt like taking on a challenge and seeing if she really could prove herself wrong and draw a person. She was Lydia Martin. She didn't give up easily. And what a better subject than the person who gave her the idea? Also, this way she could have an excuse to admire him for an incalculable amount of time.

Lydia tilted her head to the side, running her tongue along her bottom lip as she studied Isaac's facial structure, trying to get the angle of his jawline and cheek correct. Drawing him was more frustrating than she had anticipated. She'd never seen features like his that were so... symmetrical. Every angle was perfect and no matter what she did she couldn't quite draw exactly that way.

Sighing, she looked down at her sketch again and erased a small part of his jawline, attempting to revise it. She worked on it for several minutes, forgetting about Scott and Isaac sitting several feet away from her and that she was even on her own. Lydia Martin, on her own. It was an odd thing, but she didn't mind it. She liked the peace and quiet. When Lydia finally looked up to study Isaac again, she straightened in her seat and looked around in alarm, not seeing Isaac.

"What's this?" a voice said from her left, making Lydia jump. Isaac took a seat beside her and reached out for the sketch pad, his curiosity ignited.

"Nothing," Lydia snapped, slamming her sketch pad shut and smacking Isaac's hand in the process. He jerked his hand back with a wince and frowned at her. "Sorry," Lydia mumbled, glancing at his hand, doubting it hurt at all, however. "This isn't something I'm ready for anyone to see yet," she told him.

"Understood," Isaac replied, smiling to let her know it was their little secret. "I hope whatever it is you'll share it with me soon," he added, pushing his chair back and standing up to go join Scott again.

"Mmm," Lydia murmured, pursing her lips together and thinking over his request. She finally smiled and looked up at him. "You'll be the first, Lahey."

"Good. See you later, Martin," he said, winking at her.

Lydia leaned to the side and watched him walk away, admiring his backside. She rubbed her lips together and shook herself out of her daydream and slipped her sketch pad into her bag and left the cafeteria, deciding to get to class early. She stopped by her locker to retrieve her book, and when she opened her locker door a piece of paper fell out and floated to the ground.

Eyes widening, Lydia quickly bent over to pick it up before anyone saw it, pressing it against her stomach against her palm. She hurried to the bathroom and made sure it was empty before locking herself in a stall, setting her bags on the ground, and opening the piece of paper, the familiar yet unfamiliar hand-writing looming before her. She read aloud, her voice low,

"I'll give you my heart to make a place
for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger.
Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars
for you? That I would take you there? The splash
of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube? Moonlight making crosses
on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one."

She swallowed hard, her throat dry and hoarse from reading the poem several times over. Lowering her arms, she rested her hands on top of her thighs, gingerly holding the piece of paper between her fingertips as she got lost in imagining whoever this was – got lost in imagining him running his tongue along every curve of her body, along her neck. Making her, like it described in the poem, melt like a sugar cube.

Snapping out of her ridiculous erotic fantasy when she felt her heart pounding against her chest, Lydia took a deep breath and forced herself to control her arousal. She stood up, only to have to reach her hand out and lean against the stall for a second, the backs of her knees warm and weak from her previous thoughts. Bringing herself up, she opened the stall and went over to the sink, turning on the faucet and splashing her face with cool water.

"Control yourself, Lydia," she said to her reflection in the mirror. She studied herself, her cheeks and neck and chest flushed a light red. "It's going to take a lot more than this to get you to lift your skirt."