[well, she might have opened the door for everyone who walked by to see, but she's not that horrible. Isabelle quickly strides to Max, turns him promptly around and accompanies him (read: practically carries him) out to the hall, shutting the door behind her.]
[Max didn't have much to say initially, though he couldn't help stealing glances behind him as they walked away, looking back and up at Isabelle, his glasses sliding off]
Awesome. [she grins, leading the way to her room before opening the door to show him the travesty that is her completely tidy room. In fact, even beyond it being tidy, it has no life to it. The glitter that had been painstakingly applied was now scraped from the walls, leaving them a plain beige colour; her black bed was completely made, pillows set neatly upon it; everything on her vanity was organised by size, shape, and application. There was even a doily over the chair, likely handmade.]
What's going on?
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Oh hey, Max.
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[Max didn't have much to say initially, though he couldn't help stealing glances behind him as they walked away, looking back and up at Isabelle, his glasses sliding off]
Were you fighting?
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You haven't seen my boots around, have you?
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Were you fighting over boots?
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It looks like a female, Victorian Jace hit it.
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It's clean?
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