Author's Note: I don't own Teen Wolf or the other characters. I hope you enjoy my take on them though! Let me know what you think and who you think deserves Malia so far. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW

Chapter One: The Habits of My Heart

Malia felt drained.

It has been a week since the pack defeated The Beast and everything was starting to go back to normal. Well, almost everything. Her and Stiles still weren't talking. I mean sure they spoke when it was absolutely necessary for a pack meeting, but never the way they used to: without reservation, intimately, and unfiltered.

They used to have this invisible tether in between them, unconsciously drawing them closer together. They could communicate through gazes and eye contact when words were not always required to convey what was needed to be said… but these days he wouldn't even meet her eyes for more than a fleeting moment. Malia figured the awkward tension would subside and with time they would talk about the ambiguous break up involving all the secrets they had kept from each other. They would just work it out and they would go back to simply being Stiles and Malia, right? Wrong. All her attempts at calling him when straight to voicemail. The harsh beep at the end of her message sounding scarily similar to a flat line, leaving Malia hollow inside.

It was late and the day was coming to an end. Malia's dad slept soundly on the couch downstairs as she threw on a pair of worn out shorts, her favorite Chuck Taylor's, and of the plaid flannels Stiles gave her during a particularly chilly morning. She lifted the material to her nose and inhaled the smell that reminded her so much of him, but was now fading away just like the remnants of their broken relationship.

She climbs through the window and begins her trek out to her home away from home, the woods. It's the only place Malia has felt at peace in a long time and she had a lot of self-reflection to contemplate.

Isaac drove past the "Welcome to Beacon Hills" sign and was on his way to surprise Chris before he made his way over to Scott's house to tell him that he was officially moving back.

Chris had taken on a father role for him that he had been lacking for a better part of his teenage years. They had leaned on each other in their time of mourning. Traveling together in France had been given him the time he needed to heal his grieving heart over the loss of Allison. In his heart, he knew the Allison had always loved Scott more, but he was still honored to have gotten the opportunity to know her and the girl behind the huntress and warrior. He held no resentment towards Scott and in a way he understood. Sometimes you just love someone with this intensity that would never be matched by another person, no matter how much you wish differently. However, that doesn't diminish or discredit the love she had for Isaac. It was just different, and that's okay.

Scott had become the brother he never had and Melissa stepping in for the mother he had lost too soon. He had missed them all so much and was happy to be back.

Before Isaac would get into town, he needed to make a stop at his special hideaway spot that had become a safe haven for him after long nights of neglect, abuse, and being locked in the freezer by his late father. His father was his anchor that kept his inner wolf in control. Derek once asked why this was, considering what an awful man his father had turned out to be.

"He wasn't always this way" He remembers replying.

Isaac is lost in thought as he stumbles his way down the path he remembers by heart until he reaches his destination. An opening appears in the mass of trees and there's a glorious view of the stars. He's just about to reacquaint himself and get comfortable when he suddenly notices a heartbeat not far away from him.

He turns his head and spots someone sitting near a tree a few yards away from him. All he can make out is a head of disheveled brown waves that stop at a pair of shoulders. It's a girl. It's still too dark to decipher any distinct features, but suddenly the moonlight illuminates her face from about eye level down to two prominent cheek bones and he sees her eyes. Gorgeous, whisky-stained irises sparkle at him as she stares directly at him without an ounce of fear. Ironically, she was holding a bottle of whiskey in between her small hands, downing half of it in one gulp. She never takes her eyes off of him as she continues to drink.

"So are you just going to stand there all night having a staring contest with me? 'Cause I promise you I will win. Or are you going to introduce yourself? It's the least you could do since you're invading my private time and favorite spot in Beacon Hills" She says nonchalantly with her pretty lips pulled back in a smirk.

Isaac chuckles darkly and sits down next to this girl he just met who he's already figured out is a feisty little thing and quite the ball-buster with a sharp tongue. He found that he was immensely enjoying her company and their banter.

"Actually if we're being technical, this was my place first. I found it about two years ago when I needed a place to think, but I am more than happy to share it with you" He replied charmingly.

Malia laughed at his obvious flirtation. Usually she would ignore or growl at some random boy that tried to charm her, but not Isaac. He was electric, and very charismatic. She liked that. His voice was deep, gentle, and warm like liquid honey. She doesn't know why, but it reminds her of home.

Isaac liked her laugh, She had a pretty laugh. The kind of laugh that makes a man fall to his knees and attempt to give a girl like her the world if that's what she wanted. He leaned in closer. She also smelled amazing. Is that creepy? She smelled like warm vanilla, some kind of spice her couldn't place, and the grass right after it rained. He wished he could see her better, but he didn't want to risk scaring her away with his true eyes. The golden pupils just might run her off and Isaac didn't want that.

If only he knew.

"I'm Isaac, Isaac Lahey" he said and held out his hand for her to shake.

"Malia Tate" She said simply, shaking his hand and taking another swig of the almost empty whisky bottle in her hand. "Want some?"

He takes the bottle from her hand, making sure to brush his thumb against her knuckles and takes a large gulp.

"So what are you doing out here at 4:00 in the morning, Malia Tate?" He exaggerates each syllable, liking the way her name rolls of his lips. Apparently she does as well by the grin she tries to hide behind a cough.

Malia is silent for a moment and he thinks that she isn't going to answer his question at all when her eyes become somber and she whispers, "I'm out here doing what all lost girls do, I suppose. Avoiding my problems and hoping the Universe or God or whoever is willing to listen will be gentle with me and tell me what I'm suppose to do next." She pauses- "My boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend I guess, came into my life and took it by storm. He created and unleashed parts of myself that have been dormant for the past eight years of my life. Life was great and I found love where it wasn't suppose to be… and then I guess he realized I just wasn't the girl for him. I have this theory that those big, catastrophic natural disasters are named after people. Just maybe, whoever comes up with the official names for these events got their heart broken. Imagine- someone profoundly different from everyone else comes into your life abruptly, like a hurricane causing irrevocable change to it. And then all of a sudden the rug is swept from underneath you and that person exits your life, obliterating every happy memory you've ever had of them in their wake. All that's left is the debris of your heart that you're left to pick up."

Malia continues to gaze at the same spot of the ground, finishing her story, but her eyes are vacant.

Isaac's face softens and instantly felt sorry for this girl and the cards she was dealt. He felt a connection being formed. He knew all too well what it felt like to be abandoned. A sudden protectiveness of her overcame him slowly- then all at once. He laid his hand on hers and gave it a comforting squeeze to let her know that she was not alone. Malia looked up at him with those doe eyes of hers and offered a weak, watery smile to show her thanks for his touch.

She looked back down at their intertwined fingers, running her soft, delicate fingers down Isaac's palm. He hooks his finger underneath her chin to get her meet his eyes. Her breath catches and her heart leaps at his handsome face being so close to her own.

"You won't be sad forever, Malia. There will come a day that will seem like any other day. But that day will come when you look at that boy and smile because you won't feel that ache in your chest anymore" He spoke seriously. "My last girlfriend… Allison, she died two years ago. Man, sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday" Isaac paused, this was the first time he's spoken her name out loud since her funeral and he feels his heart constrict. Malia runs her hand down his face and cups his cheek, letting him know that it's okay to not speak and that she is there with him. With a newfound courage, he continues, "Anyways, she died saving me and my friends. And yes, it still hurts, but I'm not crippled with grief anymore. It still hurts and I miss her a lot, but I've accepted what happened and moved past it. That's actually why I'm here. I just moved back today to be with my friends again after everything that happened."

Malia listened attentively and rested her head on his shoulder, whispering her condolences into his ear, her breath warm against his neck. She started to shiver from the cold and Isaac pulled her closer into his side. She didn't notice him looking at her. It hurt to look at her. She sat so effortlessly beautiful surrounded by the iridescence of the moonlight and the wildflowers that littered the ground. If he never saw her again, this is how he would remember her. His pretty, little Wildflower.

They sat there for another hour or so exchanging stories of loss, love, and lighthearted liquid courage. He even got her to laugh again which brought a smile to his face. The talked and talked until the sun started to rise over the horizon. Isaac soon discovered that Malia Tate was a puzzle with a missing piece, ever the enigma. He liked the poetry of Malia. He wanted to know all of her in the most intimate and innocent of ways, like if she is a morning person? Does she prefer coffee or tea? Did she have any siblings? What does she look like when she wakes up in the morning with the sun shining on her?

"Why are you looking at me like that, Isaac Lahey?" She questions with an adorable scrunch of her nose and confused look on her face. "I fancy you, Malia Tate." He replies like he's known it his whole life. "You make me feel like a dangerous woman" She comments offhandedly, but still looking him in the eye. "Oh, Miss Tate, I'm in danger, that's for sure" Isaac says with a crooked smile that just might have touched her own crooked heart.

"I should probably get back home before my dad realizes I'm gone… but I'm happy you stumbled upon me, Isaac. I hope I see you around" She speaks earnestly. "I can guarantee you will" Isaac replies with that stupid smile that she's already grown fond of.

"Bye Isaac" Malia says, walking off into the trees.

"Good night, Malia…" Isaac whispers. But Malia still hears him with her coyote senses and blushes all the way back home. What Malia didn't realize is that something was set in motion that night. She did not realize that a second storm in the form of Isaac Lahey was going to come crashing into her life and what that would mean for her.