Room 301, Saturday Morning
There was nothing that could have prepared Isabelle for this. A few dreams had done nothing - she dreamt of Max enough as it was. He was damn near ever-present, because of his glaring absence. It was nothing new and had not been for what felt like a really long time now.
So early this morning, when there was a very polite little knock on her door? She thought nothing of it, except that it was curiously early for a Saturday morning. She pulled on a robe and traipsed to the door, and opened it. And there was nothing that could have prepared her for the shock that made her physically stagger back a step. "Izzy?" Max said. Her Max. Her poor, poor baby brother she'd failed so terribly.
She ended up on her knees. Tears were welling up and flowing down and she felt like she couldn't breathe. When he stepped forward, into the room (pushing the door mostly closed after himself because he was young but so smart, so so smart, and he knew a private moment when he saw one), she clutched at him, clung to him, crushed him to her chest.
It wasn't as if she could hurt him now any more than she already had.
[ooc: Cracked open door, open post.]
So early this morning, when there was a very polite little knock on her door? She thought nothing of it, except that it was curiously early for a Saturday morning. She pulled on a robe and traipsed to the door, and opened it. And there was nothing that could have prepared her for the shock that made her physically stagger back a step. "Izzy?" Max said. Her Max. Her poor, poor baby brother she'd failed so terribly.
She ended up on her knees. Tears were welling up and flowing down and she felt like she couldn't breathe. When he stepped forward, into the room (pushing the door mostly closed after himself because he was young but so smart, so so smart, and he knew a private moment when he saw one), she clutched at him, clung to him, crushed him to her chest.
It wasn't as if she could hurt him now any more than she already had.
[ooc: Cracked open door, open post.]