You weren’t sure if you could find the words to describe how much you hated Scott at this very moment. It was blisteringly hot so you’d flung your windows open, the ceiling fan going, your entire body almost melting into the slight relief of heat.
Just when you threw back the covers and stripped, slipping on the tiniest nightie you owned, a gift from Lydia that you swore too never wear. Scott sent Isaac to check on you. He was too busy silently climbing into your room to notice you scramble for a baggy t-shirt and dive for your bed to cover yourself.
“(Y/N)?” Isaac whispered.
It wasn’t the first night Isaac had been sent to watch over you. You’d become accustom to the lanky wolf sleeping somewhere in your room. More often than not you’d wake up with your legs tangled around his waist, his head resting on your stomach, hands reaching up to tangle with the end of your hair.
“Isaac why’re you here so late?” You asked through a yawn.
“I think the real question is why are you awake so late?” Isaac chuckled as he settled down next to you.