He stepped back, frowning, hurt. “The way I look matters that much to you? You — you’re a /werewolf/! You shift, you change, that — ” He broke off, shaking his head. “Just let me borrow a shirt and a pair of pants, please, and I’ll — get out of your hair,” he said dully after a moment.
“No! I just…you’re my Summer and if I…if I like you like this then that means…doesn’t it? Or does it, I don’t know…” He ran his hands through his hair, shoulders slumping as he gazed at her. “Please don’t go…I’m sorry, Summer…”
“It doesn’t mean /anything/!” he blazed. “Because I’m the same person! Just this stupid — I’m the same! Of course you still — argh!” He lunged at Isaac, fists flailing.