After the weekend, Quinn and Isaac were still nowhere near where they hoped to be. Sure, they were technically still friends, but something had shifted between them. The bond that had once been effortless was now strained and fragile, and neither of them knew how to bridge the widening gap. They both understood that the situation wasn't ideal, but neither knew how to fix it. The air between them seemed thick with unresolved emotions, and despite being physically present in the same space, they couldn't shake the weight of the unspoken tension that hung over them.

It was lunchtime, and the usual chatter of the pack was subdued. Everyone could feel it—there was a quiet awkwardness between Quinn and Isaac that everyone had picked up on. It wasn't just the small things—the glances, the stiff postures—it was the absence of their usual camaraderie. Conversations seemed forced, and every time Isaac or Quinn spoke, their words felt like they were laced with a hesitation that had never been there before.

Lydia, the ever-observant and blunt strawberry-blonde banshee, was the first to break the silence. Known for her ability to speak her mind, Lydia wasn't one to let things fester. When she noticed something, she would make sure everyone knew about it, no matter how uncomfortable it made the situation. And today, it was no different.

"Okay," she said, lowering her hands to the table, signalling to everyone that she had something important to say. This was her way of getting attention, and it worked instantly. All eyes shifted to her, knowing that when Lydia spoke, it was going to be something worth listening to.

"What in the world happened between the two of you?" Lydia asked, her eyes moving between Isaac at one end of the table and Quinn at the other. Her gaze was sharp, her voice steady, but there was a trace of frustration beneath her words. The tension was obvious, and Lydia wasn't about to let it go unnoticed.

Isaac's immediate response was defensive. "What makes you think something happened?" he asked, his voice dismissive. But Lydia didn't flinch at his attempt to brush her off. She deadpanned at him, her annoyance clear.

"Don't go there, Isaac," she shot back with a smirk. Her words had a bite, and Quinn, sitting just beside Isaac, involuntarily recoiled, her gaze dropping to her hands in an attempt to avoid the growing confrontation.

"Seriously," Lydia continued, her voice rising slightly with each word. "I'm going to be quite frank here. It's seriously annoying for me—and most likely everyone else—having to balance out your problems." She huffed, clearly exasperated. "We've all had enough of the awkward tension that's been hanging around, and it's time you two actually talk about what's going on."

"Lyd—" Allison began to speak up, but she was quickly silenced when Isaac slammed his hand onto the table, his face twisting in frustration.

"There is nothing going on!" Isaac's outburst was loud, and it startled everyone at the table. His voice was sharp, defensive, and full of a raw intensity that left no room for argument. But there was a hesitation in his eyes, an uncertainty that he couldn't quite hide. "Right, Quinn?" He turned to her, desperately looking for reassurance.

Quinn looked up at him, but the words stuck in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The silence stretched between them, heavier than ever, and Isaac's chest tightened with a growing sense of dread. Quinn's lack of response sent a wave of doubt crashing through him. Was this really nothing? Had he misread everything?

Quinn finally exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," was all she said before getting up from the bench. Without another word, she turned and ran off, leaving Isaac staring after her, hurt and confused, as her retreating figure faded into the distance.

"You two are a mess," Lydia remarked flatly, her words cutting through the silence like a knife. She leaned back in her chair, not trying to soften the impact. "And frankly, until you two actually talk through your differences, this cycle is just going to repeat itself. You can keep pretending everything's fine, Isaac, but we all see it. And it's only going to get worse."

Isaac looked defeated, his head falling into his hands as the weight of his emotions pressed down on him. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice breaking as he looked around at the group, desperate for some kind of guidance.

This time, it wasn't Lydia who responded. Instead, it was Stiles, who despite his own struggles, had managed to retain a semblance of clarity. He leaned forward, his voice steady as he spoke. "You both will never go back to the way things were before all of this. And you need to accept that. You can't just ignore what's happened. The past is gone, and you need to learn to move forward."

Allison nodded in agreement. "Stiles is right. None of us can give you the answers you're looking for, Isaac. We can't fix this for you. Sometimes, things are better left in the past, even if it's hard to accept."

Isaac's gaze shifted toward Scott, his hope now pinned on the Alpha. He had always looked up to Scott for advice, but now, Scott was quiet, observing. When he finally spoke, it was with a calm, measured tone that caught everyone's attention.

"Quinn has been through a lot," Scott started, his eyes meeting Isaac's, and the room fell silent. "When we were together, I often saw her trying to hide her unhappiness, and I tried to fix it. But I didn't understand what she really needed. I was trying to treat her like she was fragile like she couldn't handle things. And I only made it worse."

Isaac frowned, his confusion clear. "How exactly?" he asked, unsure of what Scott was getting at.

Scott straightened up, his voice steady as he continued. "For starters, your overprotectiveness. You've been treating her like she can't handle talking to other guys—like she's incapable of managing her own relationships." He watched Isaac carefully as he spoke, his words deliberate. "And that includes me, Isaac. I know you don't mean to, but the way you act—it doesn't let her breathe. It doesn't let her see that she's capable of making her own choices."

Isaac flinched at Scott's words, his defensiveness rising. "I don't do that," he said quickly, but there was a hesitation in his voice, an uncertainty he couldn't hide.

"But does she see it that way?" Scott raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering.

Isaac shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his mind racing. He didn't want to admit it, but he could feel the truth of Scott's words gnawing at him. "I act like that for a reason," he mumbled, not entirely sure if that was the real answer.

"What's the reason?" Lydia asked, her tone casual, but there was an underlying curiosity in her voice. She leaned forward, clearly eager for Isaac to face the truth.

Isaac sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. "I don't know, okay? It's like I told Quinn. I can't explain it." He paused, then continued, his voice growing more strained. "Every time I see her talking to another guy—or thinking about her past with Scott—I just get so... angry. And I don't know why."

Stiles, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up, though his voice lacked its usual energy. "Come on, Isaac. You can't really be this dense," he said, looking at him with a mixture of frustration and amusement.

Isaac's brow furrowed. "Dense how?" he asked, not understanding what Stiles was getting at.

"That you love her," Stiles said flatly, and in that moment, the whole group seemed to speak as one.

"I do love her," Isaac mumbled as if the words were only just now forming in his mind. "I always have."

Scott sighed, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in Isaac's eyes. "We're not talking about the 'love' you feel for her as a friend, Isaac," he explained. "We're talking about something deeper—something more intimate."

Isaac blinked, the realization hitting him like a thunderclap. He loved Quinn—not just as a friend, but in a way that went beyond what he had ever recognized before. The confusion, the jealousy, the anger—it all made sense now. He had been trying to ignore the feelings that had been growing inside him for so long, but now, in the company of his friends, it was clear.

His eyes widened, and he let out a shaky breath. "Well... shit," was all he could manage to say, as the weight of his newfound understanding settled over him, leaving him struggling to breathe through the overwhelming emotions that surged within him.