There’s an incessant, unrelenting train of thought in Isaac’s mind as he crouches next to Allison.
It’s that he shouldn’t be here. Because this is Allison Argent.
Allison. The girl that stabbed and fucking filleted him in the middle of an abandoned warehouse as her grandfather sought out the bite to save his own skin. He remembers the look in her eyes - haunted and vacant, but determined - as she sliced through his flesh and watched him fall to his knees on the concrete.
The girl he’s sitting next to now, though, is so much different.
“Can you hear how far away they are?” Allison asks quietly, voice barely sounding at all.
Isaac tilts his head a little, shrugging a shoulder as he scans the lot in front of them for the sound of footfalls or heartbeats that don’t belong to their group of friends. “I don’t…”
There’s chaos, then. Isaac can hear the moment that Ethan claws through Derek’s arm, and Allison’s hands move over the ground to grab her bow.
“Wait,” Isaac hisses, hand covering hers.
Her heartbeat spikes. Catches and stutters and Isaac turns his head towards her, but her chocolate brown irises flick from his mouth to his eyes in a motion that’s far too slow for it to be purely innocent.
He holds her gaze until they hear Stiles shouting out, and that’s their cue. Isaac breaks out into a run and Allison’s arrow glides easily over his shoulder and straight into Ethan’s chest.
The fight lasts a few minutes more, but they all make it out alive and unscathed. Ethan’s a different story, but it’s the one they were intending to write.
And if Isaac manages to walk next to Allison as she heads back to her car, it’s just a coincidence. He doesn’t point out the way her heart skips again and he pretends that he doesn’t notice the way his heart does the same thing.
Scott pretends, too.