Isaac Lahey (shiningwit) wrote in riftlogs, @ 2019-01-23 11:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | teen wolf: isaac lahey, teen wolf: peter hale |
Who: Isaac Lahey and Peter Hale
What: Somebody's not having the best of days
When: Wednesday morning
Where: Their cabin
Warnings: TBA
Status: Closed/On-going
Isaac had woken up to the power going wonky at dark o'clock in the morning. Swearing under his breath, he'd yanked actual clothes on and gone out to deal with it before Peter could -- and when exactly had he wound up living with the older werewolf, his brain still hurt on that one even though he knew the answer, oh hey back when he'd mouthed off and gotten declared Peter's home renovation helper -- because it'd been one of Those Nights, and it didn't show any signs of not being one of Those Days, too. Those days where his thoughts rode him hard and he was far too close to the awkward, fragile boy he'd been before the bite and not the surly, vengeful beta he'd turned into or the fiercely competent omega he'd been forced to make himself become.
He'd found a gremlin screwing with the generator; it'd quickly become an ex-gremlin. He'd have to deal with the body later, but at the moment, he just didn't give a crap. With the constant moon being so dark and ominous, he was on edge and had been since... not long after the sun had gone away, actually. Going out with Derek -- hey, a Derek he liked! -- had distracted him a little, but it wasn't enough. He was still about ready to alternately crawl out of his own skin or kick someone's ass, depending on the day. He was pretty sure his new friend would let him pick a fight, which was good, but wasn't helpful enough.
And he knew Peter would, which was confusing on so many levels, most of which he didn't want to examine.
Isaac tugged off his hoodie and tossed it... somewhere as he walked back into the cabin, shoving the door closed behind him. He flopped down on the couch, kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and slumped down. Most people wouldn't have noticed the tension still there, wouldn't have seen the uncertainty in the way wrapped his hand around the dog tags hanging from his neck. His brother's dog tags, that he'd swiped as soon as the military had given them Camden's things.
Mr. Lahey had never noticed.
He was so lost in thought that he barely caught the footsteps coming towards him.