misanthrope 

noun | mis - an - thrope | meaning - a person who does not like other people and avoids them.  

04; Isaac Lahey

Even before Miles had gotten to school, he was exhausted. He'd gotten close to no sleep the night before due to his entire family practically interrogating him over him coincidentally finding a certain Lydia Martin in the woods the previous night. The whole question-after-question did nothing for Miles besides get on his nerves, mostly because it seemed like his family seemed to think of him as to incompetent to make his own decisions. His distant relative that said that had been immediately pinned against the wall, his shirt balled up in Miles' shaking fists, until miles was peeled off of him by Chris. 

Apparently, Miles calling the authorities before his family once he'd gotten Lydia inside the warmth of his car was a popular decision. Miles argued that he hadn't seen the girl as a threat, and thought she need medical attention instead of the attention of a family of hunters, but at that point people had stopped listening to the boy. 

In the end, it was basically decided that Miles was wrong, even though he never really had much time to defend his case, and his families questions had quickly turned into accusations. Unsurprisingly, after his physical out burst, almost everyone seemed to turn against him. Once he was finally able to go, the phrase 'you're father would've done better' was spat in his direction nearly a dozen times. Miles wanted to scream on the top of his lungs that he wasn't, nor did he want to be, his father. But to do so would've be the a sin in his families eyes, mostly because it was crazy not to want to be as flawless as the great Noah Argent. 

Lately, though, since Allison had told him of the Hale fire, Miles wasn't so sure if his father was as flawless as he remembered. 

After retreating to the tranquility of his room, Miles had neared entering the state of sleep, but was disturbed by a knocking on the door. The time nearing midnight, Miles contemplated simply not answering the door so he could finally fall asleep, but eventually did get up to see Allison, disheveled to the extent that she looked almost as tired as he was. 

His cousin had invited herself into his room, and Miles had been to tired to argue with her. Allison had launched into a story about the first friend she'd made when she'd come to Beacon Hills, and how much that friend could be a pain in the ass which Allison would never get tired of. 

Eventually, Allison got to the point that the friend she was talking about was actually Lydia Martin, and that she'd been beyond worried about what her family was going to do to the girl once they found her. Miles found himself being thanked by Allison with such unwavering sincerity for doing what he did with Lydia, he had wondered at first if he'd just gotten to the point in his tiredness that he had begun hearing things. 

After Allison had finally left, Miles fell into his bed, his sheets tangled around his limbs messily as he was too done with his own existence to put effort into actually trying to get into bed. Despite his ceaseless exhaustion, Miles still had trouble falling asleep. Being alone with his thoughts and various emotions proved to be quite confusing, and by the time he did manage to fall asleep, it was nothing short of restless. When he'd woken up that morning, he hadn't felt like he'd slept at all, and hearing his family talk about a supernatural attack on some guy late last night only made him want to either  hunt down the mans murderer or crawl back into bed, not go to school. 

Seeing her cousin looking grumpier then usual that morning, Allison kindly refused his offer to drive her to school and instead allowed her father to drive her. The car ride had been filled with a heavy layer of silence with a slight under tone of discomfort, which wasn't all that different then driving with Miles. But Allison hardly noticed as she thought about her best friend finally returning to school, and when she finally came across Lydia, she nearly jumped the strawberry blonde with a bear hug. 

"You really don't remember anything?" Allison finally asked as the two girls walked towards the school building. 

Lydia shrugged her shoulders as she sauntered up the steps with ease. In her tight dress with her face all made up, Lydia looked like the last person who'd be going on naked rampages through the woods. "They called it a fugue state, which is basically a was of saying 'we have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked for two days'. But, personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds." 

Allison chuckled softly, but looked at her friend with soft eyes. "Are you ready for this?" She questioned carefully. 

"Please," Lydia scoffed. "It's not like my Aunt's a serial killer." 

Though Allison knew that Lydia's current harshness was her way of coping, Allison still frowned. "If we see Miles at all today, could you maybe not say that in front of him?" 

Lydia, who had been reaching towards the doors handle, stopped what she was doing to shoot Allison a confused look. "Who the hell is Miles?" 

Allison looked at her best friend quizzically, figuring she must've known that Miles had been the one that pulled her out of the woods, but then she thought herself to be foolish to even think that. Miles wasn't one for introductions, or really even talking. Plus, Lydia had been in an odd state when they'd met. 

"Miles is my older cousin," Allison explained slowly. "He's the guy that found you. Do you remember him? He's really tall, looks like the human personification of grumpy cat sometimes, pretty muscular, probably didn't talk much to you, in all honesty." 

"The guy that found me," Lydia repeated, her eyebrows furrowing as she dug through her fractured memory. After a moment, she began to nod, a vaguely distant look in her eyes. "I-I think I remember him. I mean, I remember someone being there, and him carrying me, I'm pretty sure. He left pretty quickly, almost right when the Sheriff finished talking to him." 

"That sounds like him," Allison murmured. 

Lydia didn't seem to here her. "Did he carry some weird electrical poker thing." 

"Uh, you must've imagined that part." Allison said quickly. She knew exactly what Lydia was talking about, and knew that telling the truth would've gotten messy. Lydia gave the brunette a quizzical look, which made Allison uncomfortable, and so she looked away, her gaze falling onto the parking lot. Her eyes lit up, and she pointed to an SUV that had just pulled into a parking spot. "Look, Lyd, that's actually him right there." 

Miles got out of the car swiftly, a brown paper bag held between his teeth as he put on his backpack and took off his sunglasses, tossing them into his front seat. He hadn't noticed the two girls looking at him, mostly because he looked to occupied looking angry and mentally cursing the world. 

"Well, I certainly don't remember him being that hot," Lydia noted, the strawberry blonde looking vaguely impressed by the Argent boy. With lips pursed, she didn't even bother hiding the fact that she was most definitely checking out the upperclassman. 

Allison's wide eyes shot towards her friend, and she didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. Sure, puberty had hit him better then others, but still, he was her cousin. She almost hoped Lydia would go back to commenting on her deceased Aunt rather then the attractiveness of her very much alive cousin. 

Luckily, Lydia did neither. Instead, she, with what looked like a fair deal of effort, pealed her eyes away from their current task of scanning over every bit of Miles' body, and turned towards the entrance of the school. Flicking her curled hair over her shoulder, Lydia strutted into the school. Allison took a deep breath before following her best friend. 

Lacrosse was apparently very important to the residents of the town of Beacon Hills. And, apparently, the lacrosse team was the pride and joy of almost the entire town. Therefore, when something went down at practice, everyone knew about it in a heart beat. 

Miles, personally, could've cared less about lacrosse. Growing up, the only sports he really was taught while growing up was those involving martial arts and archery. On rare occasions, his father had taken him to a random park in what ever town they were in, and they'd throw a baseball around. So, if he had to pick, Miles supposed his favorite sport would have to be baseball. Though whether the reason for that picking was because he genuinely enjoyed the sport, or because his memories with a baseball and his father were the only ones that neared being normal, Miles wasn't entirely sure. 

But baseball didn't matter for the time being, mostly because nobody on the baseball team had been taken by the police in the middle of practice. 

From what Miles had been able to gather, the boy who'd been arrested was Isaac Lahey. There were plenty of theories spinning around on what the kid could've done. Apparently he'd been a bit of a loner, which led to dozens of malicious stories to be made about what he could've been arrested for. If Miles hadn't known better, he might've felt some sort of pity towards the boy, but Miles knew the real reason why Isaac had been arrested. His father was the man that had been found brutally murdered. 

After gaining the information, Miles had made up a clever enough excuse to go to the principles office, where he needed to go in order to talk to his grandfather, the new and improved Principle Gerard Argent. 

Miles arrived to the office only to see that it was already being occupied by a few members of the towns police department and some student Miles didn't quite recognize. Just as interestingly, the chairs sitting outside of the principles office were also being occupied by two boys. Miles recognized the tanner of the two boys to be Scott McCall, the boy he and his uncle had accidentally caught in a trap only a few nights before. 

Scott and his friend had been having a hushed conversation when Miles had arrived, but abruptly stopped when they noticed the approaching Argent. Knowing he'd probably be recognized, Scott slouched in his seat, his eyes falling to examine his shoes with false fascination. His friend, on the other hand, stared at Miles with wide eyes, and Miles attempted to ignore that boy altogether as he leaned up against the wall next to the seats. 

Saving the three teenage boys from what would've undoubtedly been an awkward silence, the door to the principles office swung open, and the people from inside slowly filed out. Among these people was the towns sheriff, and as soon as he walked out Scott's friend clumsily fumbled with a magazine before eventually raising it in front of his face. Miles sincerely hoped that he wasn't trying to hide from the sheriff, because he was doing such a horrendous job, it took a good amount of self control for Miles to look away and not cringe. 

The Sheriff looked down at the boy holding up the magazine and sighed wholeheartedly. Deciding it to be best not to comment on the horrible hider, the sheriff instead nodded towards Scott. "Hi, Scott." 

Scott gave the Sheriff a small wave, making an awkward noise that sounded like an embarrassed laugh in the process. 

Apparently having nothing else to say, the sheriff shook his head and headed down the hallway with his deputies. It wasn't until they turned the corner that the boy finally put the magazine back down. Miles simply rolled his eyes at the paler teenager. 

"Miles," A voice spoke. Miles looked up from the two teenage boys, and saw that his grandfather was standing in the doorway of his office. Miles swiftly pushed himself off the wall, standing up straight so he had the perfect posture. Gerard simply nodded towards him. "Come on in." 

Miles stepped forward quickly, moving with such elegance that he didn't even make a sound. The two teenagers watched him walk past them, before glancing at each other with a look of concern. 

"Now you weren't sent here because you were acting out, now were?" Gerard questioned as he closed the door. He motioned for Miles to sit down at the seat in front of his desk, which his grandson immediately did, before situating himself in his seat behind the desk. 

"No, I came here to talk to you," Miles explained. He placed his hands on his knees as he met the older mans eyes. "I've heard some rumors. I wanted to know if they were true." 

Gerard raised his eyebrows, and if Miles hadn't known better he would've said the old man looked amused. "Let me guess, you heard that a certain Isaac Lahey was arrested today at his lacrosse practice. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly teenagers can manage to spread thing." 

"So it's true." Miles summed up. His grandfather nodded. "What are we going to do about it." 

"Right now? Nothing. We're rational, no matter the situation," Gerard reminded the young boy. Of course, Miles already knew all of this, but he didn't say anything. "You'll go about the day normally, keep this too yourself, and when we get home we'll discuss how to handle this young man." 

"You think he killed his father," Miles guessed. 

Gerard was silent for a moment, looking almost too calm. "If we have anything that points guilt in his direction, especially at a time like this, what have I always taught you how to address the situation." 

"You say to eliminate the threat." 

so basically this is a filler chapter and i'm sorry its not all that eventful. now we can see how he fits in as the lawful neutral he will try to be throughout this story. also, now we know Lydia thinks he's hot (which is 100% true) so who knows, maybe the first seeds of #Milydia have been planted. anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! 

lastly, dedication to @disjenna bc her comments were so very right last chapter, Miles just needs a hug.