He has gotten good at it, hiding the pain. Isaac didn't do that, he didn't…tell people. He didn't let others in. Instead, Isaac chose to bury his pain and let it hurt him and not the people around him. That's what Isaac did. He buried the pain and the fear, refusing to let anyone uncover his true identity.

But that's not what he did when he was with me. When he was with me, he uncovered the pain. He uncovered the hurt. And he showed me what he had been hiding behind closed doors for so long.

This wasn't a gentle process. It was hard for him, to let people in and to show them what he was afraid of. As hard as it was for me to watch it happen, it was ten times harder for him to make it happen. Some days, he builds a wall around himself so high he can't even see over the top. Other days, he lets it crumble. He lets me take it apart, brick by brick. I remember he came to me after school one day and told me he needed to tell me something. He took me to an empty classroom and tried to just straight up tell me what was going on. He ended up having a really bad panic attack, and we sat in that empty classroom until it got dark, just talking. He told me about his father, and about his brother. He told me about his mother, who bailed on them when Isaac was 12. He told me that he didn't know what to do, that he thought becoming a werewolf would help him stand up to his abusive father and that it only made him scared of hurting him.

That was the worst part. Isaac thought it was his fault, that he was the bad guy. It took me a really long time to convince him that what his father was doing to him was not his fault. Isaac loved his dad, despite all the terrible things he had done to Isaac. That was a long time ago, however, and now Isaac's father is dead.

It was Sunday night, and it was cold and pouring rain outside. I was in the kitchen making a cup of tea when I heard someone knock on the door. I looked over at the clock on the microwave. It read 12:48am. Tea in hand, I went to go see who it was. I opened the door, revealing Isaac, soaking wet and shaking. His golden curls were plastered to his forehead, and his lips were almost as blue as his eyes. His leather jacket was heavy with rainwater on his broad shoulders, and his white t-shirt was see-through against his pale skin.

"I di—didn't know wh—where else to go. I'm s—sorry." Isaac stuttered through chattering teeth.

"It's okay. Come in, you look like you're about to freeze to death." I said, gesturing inside the apartment. Isaac took a few steps forward before his legs seemed to give out and fell to the ground. "Isaac?" I gasped, kneeling down beside him. I cradled his head on my knees and waited until he regained his sense of reality. "Isaac, what's wrong? Are—are you hurt?"

His eyes locked with mine, the crystal clear blue color was mesmerizing. "I'm… I'm fine, sorry." He mumbled. Isaac tried to stand and wobbled slightly, clutching onto me for support. I guided him to the bathroom next to my room. His skin was ice against mine; I could feel each individual goose bump. I closed the toilet lid, sat him on top of it and knelt down in front of him.

"Isaac, I'm going to put you in the shower. It's nice and warm; I think you'll feel a lot better once you're in there. Is that okay?" I asked softly. He closed his eyes and nodded. I began to peel off his still-soaked clothes, starting with his shoes and socks. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his damp skin, so cold and pale it was almost purple. I unhooked his belt and slid his jeans down to his ankles. He removed his feet one by one, carefully and slowly. I stood up to turn on the shower, holding my hand under the water until it was just short of uncomfortably hot. When I turned to face Isaac again, he was staring at his hands.

"Isaac?" I asked, taking a step towards him. I looked down at his hands. They were trembling. It almost looked fake, like he was doing it on purpose.

"I can't make them stop." He whispered. He looked up at me, "how do I make them stop?" His voice had such an innocent demeanor; my eyes welled up with tears. I blinked them away and took his hands in mine. He flinched when our hands made contact, but then calmed. Steam swirled around the small bathroom. It fogged up the mirror and stuck to our skin. The air was hot. We smelled like rain.

"Isaac, you're freezing. Once you get in the shower, you'll feel better. I promise. Come on, let's get you warm. Okay?" I said softly, rubbing my thumbs across the backs of his hands.

"Can you—I mean if it's—will you help me?" Isaac asked timidly.

"Okay." I whispered, nodding. "Of course." I took a few steps back and began undressing.

Isaac turned to face the other way, "Sorry." He said.

"It's okay, Isaac. I don't care." I said, laughing slightly.

I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in. "Come on." I said softly, offering my hand to hold him steady.

Once Isaac was in, I turned to face him. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed, making his blonde eyelashes, as well as the dark purple smudges show more prominently. Tears slid down silently from the corners of his eyes. I picked up a loofah and a bottle of body wash. It smelled like pine, like the forest. Like Isaac. That's probably the only reason I had bought this brand in the first place, because it smelled like him.

I squeezed a generous amount onto the loofah and stepped forward, tentatively running it down his right arm. He flinched but didn't protest or pull away, a silent prompt for me to continue on.

I went over every centimeter of him gently but thoroughly. He was still silently letting tears fall from his eyes, the droplets hitting me steadily. I relished them, not because Isaac was in pain but because he was letting go, he actually trusted me enough to let go just for a little while. Rising up from his feet, I cupped his chin and he opened his eyes. Raw pain, pleading, trust, appreciation…I felt dizzy.

"I'm here." I whispered to Isaac. "I'm here. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm here for you Isaac."

He nodded and sniffed. The scent of the soap I had lathered on him finally registered. "Smells like home." He said quietly.

I smiled. "Yeah…it does."

As I began to walk him backward toward the showerhead, he gripped my hand and held it tight. I looked up at him, "I won't hurt you, Isaac. You're safe." He pursed his lips and let out a shaky breath through his nose. Slowly, we walked into the showerhead's line of fire. When the warm water hit him, Isaac's eyes rolled back in his head. His head fell back in relief and his lips parted. He made it seem like the best thing in the world. A shiver ran through him, forcing out a shaky breath.

He let the water run down his shoulders and torso, the droplets running all the way down to his toes. His body was dotted with tiny water droplets, which shone in the artificial lighting of my bathroom. I studied his face, noticing things I had never noticed before. I finally saw him; like really saw all the little things that made Isaac who he is. Like the way his lips part when he's relaxed, or the way his eyebrows furrow when he was concentrating, or how he clenched his jaw, crossed his arms, and stared at his feet when he was scared or anxious. My eyes traced the outline of his upper body, as if trying to memorize its' shape.

When the soap had left his body completely, I leaned forward and cut the water off. I pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the shower, Isaac following. I grabbed two big, white, fluffy towels from the shelves where we kept them and handed one to Isaac.

"Thanks." He said quietly.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to go find some clothes." I told him. He nodded.

I returned wearing Nike shorts and an old Ramones t-shirt.

"Here," I said, handing Isaac a pair of grey sweatpants and a red t-shirt that said Professional Napper on it. "They're my dad's, but he doesn't really wear them anymore." He stepped into the sweats and threw the shirt over his damp curls. I walked over to my bed and sat down, gesturing for Isaac to join me.

"You okay?" I asked gently. He nodded…a little to quickly. "Isaac?"

He fidgeted with his hands. I looked down at them to see that they were shaking. I reached out and placed my hands over his, trying to steady them. "Do you want to tell me what happened? Why you were outside in the pouring rain?"

He gripped my hands tightly. It was just short of painful, but I just let it be. I shifted closer to him, our knees touching. "Isaac." I said softly. "Tell me. It's alright."

"I, uh…had a nightmare about…about my dad. I couldn't tell D-Derek about it, and… I don't know…I just started walking and then it started raining. But I…I couldn't go back to the loft, I didn't know where I was or how to get back so I kept walking and…ended up here." Isaac looked at me, his eyes searching my face for some spark of anger, of disappointment. He found neither one. I reached up and entangled my fingers in the curls on the back of his head.

"I'm glad you came here." I said with a smile. I slowly ran my fingertips along his scalp, drawing lazy circles.

"You—you are?" he stammered.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Why?"

"I want to take care of you, Isaac. I want you to know that no matter what happens, whether it be a nightmare or a reality, I'm here. You can always come find me."

Isaac grinned. His eyes, however, were filled with exhaustion. "When is the last time you got some rest?" I asked him.

"I don't remember, to be completely honest with you." He rubbed his eyes and scratched the back of his neck.

"Lay down." I told him. He stared at me, mouth open. "Come on. You're exhausted. You need sleep. You need it now. Lay down." I pulled back the covers and slid underneath them, Isaac doing the same. He shifted closer to me and buried his head in my neck, his golden curls tickling my chin and cheeks. I stroked his hair and drew shapes on his neck, listening to the sound of his breathing. I subconsciously matched mine to his, our heartbeats seemingly synchronized.

"Allison?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Mmm?"

"I think I love you."

I smiled in the darkness, "I think I love you too. Now get some rest."

"'Kay."

And with that, sleep overtook us both. For the time being, we were safe in each other's arms.