Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. Six if you count Princess Buttercup and Westley in the Princess Bride.

But the one Winnie Jones was having blew them all away.

Honestly, it had to have been the most amazing kiss in all of history. Well, in the history of dream kisses.

Winnie wasn't even aware of what else was going on, until she fell out of her bed and smacked onto the ground.

"Jesus fuc-" Winnie's voice fell, groaning as she laid sprawled out on the floor at three in the morning. "How did that even happen?" Letting out a sigh, she absently touched her lips. She couldn't even remember what she had been dreaming about.

Blue eyes traveled upwards, finding the massive window with the floral curtains pulled back.

A full moon.

Winnie rolled over, entangled in her comforter. Struggling to get out, she broke free. She stumbled, getting her footing finally. Winnie flattened out the lacrosse shirt she'd stolen from Jake that was over a pair of Captain America designed underwear. She wandered to her bathroom, flicking on the lights and squinting profusely.

When she actually could see, she felt her pulse pick up to a rapid pace.

Winnie swore, her hands and arms covered in charcoal shades and swipes. Her head snapped up to the mirror, her reflection tainted with black patches.

She back up, her heart racing. Her foot crunched on something, causing her to retract.

Winnie turned around slowly after bringing on the lights of her room. She covered her mouth, her eyes beginning to water.

"What is this place doing to me?"

¥¥¥

The following school day went on, and without Winnie. It may have been a bad idea to miss her second day at a new school, but when Mr. Jones found her, and what she'd done, he told her that school could wait another day.

Winnie was pacing her room, cleaned up from the charcoal but still in a heightened state. One hand was pressing on the corner of her lips as she evaluated what she'd done during the night.

It was the Magna Carta.

She had the supernatural occurrences of Beacon Hills in a timeline, all of her drawings.

Winnie had sorted through, taking ones only beginning with Scott McCall.

Allison, the hunter.

Scott, the werewolf.

She knew it all.

An entire wall of sketch papers outlines what had gone on since Peter Hale bit Scott McCall, then proceeded to terrorize Beacon Hills on a hell bent revenge mission. Allison's family being killers of the supernatural, armed by none other than Winnie's father.

She felt uncomfortable. She felt betrayed.

Her father was apart of this.

Argent Arms was why they were in Beacon Hills.

Winnie was alone with her thoughts, and she was losing her mind.

Winnie paced her room, coming up with countless ideas but trashed all of them. She obviously couldn't call her father so she also wasn't sure if she could trust her mother.

What if all of it could get the people she knew hurt? That left out calling Libby, Jake and even Pete.

She paraded in swears, finally caving and going to her closet. She changed into jeans, a white lace tank and maroon cardigan. Hopping as she put on brown ankle boots, she took down a drawing of a large, burnt house. Folding it, she shoved it into her pocket before leave the room.

"The woods can't be that big," she said to herself, having to retrace her steps twice to successfully get to the garage. She grumbled, getting into her car after having to search for the right button to unlock it.

She didn't know where the hell she was going, but within minutes she found herself at the sign that said 'Beacon Hills Preserve' out of sheer luck. Parking the high class car, she climbed out and locked up.

Winnie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, praying she wouldn't get lost. She ducked under the chains, crushing leaves under her feet as she followed the slightly worn in path.

Although she'd spent her time only in the Colorado area around Arvada, there had been some pretty places. The preserve wasn't exactly the prettiest, because it was fairly creepy.

Winnie would've been ten times more impressed if she didn't know what had gone on in the woods of the town.

So many deaths. All of which she'd drawn last night.

Winnie climbed over a fallen tree, having to swing her legs over it. Landing, she blew hair from her eyes. "This seems like the beginning to a shitty horror movie," she said aloud despite no one being around.

The expanse of trees continued on, seeming never ending. The sounds other than Winnie's trek were many; all of the animals scurrying around on the ground and up in the air.

Nearly tripping over a squirrel that ran under her foot, Winnie swore but caught herself. Making a full recovery, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder.

But she'd found it.

Winnie stepped out into the clearing, her lips parting as she stared at the charred home. She slowly walked closer, taking in every detail she could.

To her, it was beautiful in the worst kind of way.

She reached into her back pocket, retrieving a drawing. Unfurling it, she found a replica standing in front of her in real time.

"What are you doing here?"

Winnie jumped a little at the voice, quickly folding the page back up and putting it away. But she was slightly more startled by who she found facing her on the porch of the ruined house.

It was him. It was Isaac.

She couldn't collectively make words; so many things darting through her head at once.

Isaac, in jeans and a blue long sleeve shirt, came down the porch steps. "You're the girl from school, aren't you?"

"The one who watched you get taken away in a cop car? Yeah, that's me," Winnie replied, a little concerned. She'd been drawing this boy for days and now he was actually there in range of her.

Isaac just barely smile, "I'm Isaac."

"Winnie."

"What are you doing here, Winnie?" Isaac pocketed his hands, watching her.

"Nature walk." Her sarcasm couldn't be hidden, even now when a werewolf stood opposite of her.

"Why aren't you in school?" Isaac asked with an amused tone.

"I'd ask you the same, but you're a fugitive," Winnie retorted.

"You're good at avoiding questions," he mused with intrigued eyes set on her.

"Maybe you're just not asking the right ones," she replied, not taking a step back as he took one forward.

Isaac watched Winnie with overwhelming curiosity, something about her getting under his skin. "Are you really on a nature walk?"

"No." Winnie kept talking despite the risk. "Did you really kill your father?" she asked, even thought she was well aware she didn't do it.

Isaac narrowed his eyes a little, "No."

Silence filtered between them, Isaac able to hear a heartbeat twinged with slight concern.

Isaac realized he wouldn't be able to tell Derek about her. He was only supposed to hide out at the Hale House and not speak to anyone if they came by.

Yet he was talking to the new girl about his innocence in his father's murder.

"Why are you really out here, Winnie?" Isaac asked, hoping to get a straight answer out of her.

"Just a little research. I looked up the town and wanted to know more about it since I'm living here for a little while," Winnie told him, her heartbeat not giving away that she was only telling a half truth. "The Hale House Fire was a big deal. One survivor, two kids left without family other than a catatonic uncle."

"Do you normally do research when you move to a new place?" Isaac asked, an eyebrow arched.

"I've never moved before, so I can't really answer that," she replied, glancing to the Hale House for a moment. More than just a fire had happened in there.

"What are you doing in Beacon Hills, then?" he question. "It's not exactly a popular place."

"My dad runs one of the businesses here. We're here for a month so he can supervise." Winnie felt her phone vibrate. "Speaking off, that's probably him now. I should go."

"Winnie?"

Winnie hesitated, "Yes, Isaac?"

"You can't tell anyone you saw me," he said, taking his hands from his pockets.

Winnie couldn't help herself. "Ever heard of please?"

"I'm a fugitive. Do I look like I say please?"

"You're innocent, maybe you should," she countered, taking a step back to head to her car. She caught the slightly terrified look on his face as she began to leave. "I won't tell, I promise." She took one last glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the woods.

First off, she wanted to know what just the hell had happened.

Winnie grumbled to herself, hopping back over the fallen tree. Taking out her phone, she answered the call from her father. "Yes?"

"Are you home?" Aaron asked, only half focused on the call.

"Absolutely. Where else would I be?" The tone of voice made it easy to be perceived as an actual answer. "Where are you?"

"On my lunch break," Aaron replied. "I just wanted to check on you to see how you're doing."

"I'm fine, Dad," Winnie said, stopping outside of her car.

Mr. Jones hesitated, knowing he'd hit a brick wall with her. "Okay, well I was also calling to see if you'd be up for dinner with my business partner and his family tonight."

"The Argents?" she asked, looking back toward the woods as she leaned on the hood of her car.

"Those are the ones," Aaron said, expecting her to deny going. "So, dinner? Six tonight?"

Winnie wanted to say no, but instead she shrugged. "I guess. Dinner with the Argents sounds like it could be fun."

Across the Preserve, Isaac stood on the porch facing the way Winnie had left in. His eyes were narrowed and his ears perked.

"Dinner with the Argents sounds like it could be fun."

Isaac's eyes widened, "Oh, shit."