Comments | somarium: Isabelle ♦ 015

nolessthanseven in somarium

Isabelle ♦ 015

Dec 21, 2011 23:01

Who Isabelle Lightwood and Desmond Miles
Where Desmond's club, L'Horizon
Style third okay with you, bb?
Status closed
Notes forward dated to Saturday night for all the truth shenanigans.

( Twas the Night Before Christmas... )

isabelle lightwood, desmond miles

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failssassin December 26 2011, 19:27:03 UTC

Up until a few nights ago, Desmond had managed to stay locked up in his office when either of the girls were working the bar. But the holidays had brought more patrons and they quickly got overwhelmed, leading to him coming downstairs to help them ( ... )

failssassin January 4 2012, 05:46:12 UTC

For the first time since he had woken up, Desmond let himself see how his efforts to push Isabelle away were truly hurting her. He sighed, shaking his head slowly, the words in his head falling out of his mouth before he could really think them through, as if he had been compelled to say the truth, finally.

"It's not you, it's me. I..." There was an hesitation there, one that made him look away from her pleading eyes. "I just don't want to hurt like I did to Lucy."

Despite the fact that the Apple wasn't in Somarium, he wasn't trusting himself one bit. What if Juno still had influence on him here. After all, if this place was a dreamworld, then he was still in his head and she could still control him here, no? He didn't wanted the false Goddess to deem Isabelle to be a distraction like she had deemed Lucy to be.

nolessthanseven January 4 2012, 07:07:10 UTC

"I don't care. I miss you," she told him, stepping towards him again, though there still remained a decent distance between them. Probably for the better, after what had happened under the mistletoe. She still hadn't told Remus, and she was hoping that it would just leave her alone; it seemed like, with this happening, it probably wouldn't.

But the fact that he'd finally said it aloud didn't go over Isabelle's head; she noted it for reference that she was...was she? Just as important as Lucy, it sounded. The thought made her heart skip a beat, and she willed herself to stay focused.

"Things are different here."

failssassin January 5 2012, 04:36:26 UTC

"I care" he replied, albeit a bit more forcefully than what he had intended. The hand on the rail curled into a fist as the Shadowhunter spoke. He was missing her as well and now he was struggling not to tell her. He couldn't let her know, couldn't feed her hopes about their relationship.

But then he shook his head: "No, they're not. I'm not different. Don't you see, it has nothing to do with where I may be, it has everything to do with me." He had no idea how to explain why he was so reluctant to be optimistic about this, that he was still so very much afraid the Bleeding Effect would finally make him insane like it did to Sixteen. The fact that he had spent a full month into a real coma was only fueling his fears.

nolessthanseven January 5 2012, 04:53:38 UTC

And still, Isabelle merely stared at him, willing him to just tell her what he was thinking about. "Why does it have everything to do with you? What makes you so special?" She demanded, feeling the hurt well up from before - she hated having conversations like this at all, let alone after what happened with Desmond already.

failssassin January 15 2012, 04:18:17 UTC

For the briefest moment, Desmond considered just letting go and simply told her about everything. About his time at the Farm, about his kidnapping by Abstergo, about his time in the Animus, about the Bleeding Effect, about how he was terrified he had lost all control over himself, here and back in his world, about how he was scared he wasn't to ever wake up in his world. But all the thoughts seemed to whirl inside, causing a roadblock in his throat and Desmond simply shook his head:

"I'm not special...I just....I mean....It's...complicated and...I'd rather not talk about it..." he offered softly, anger fading away from his voice.

nolessthanseven January 15 2012, 23:10:38 UTC

"You can't just do all this to a person and expect them to take 'I don't want to talk about it' as an answer," she snapped, unable to keep the intense hurt from her voice. And why should she even have to, Isabelle wondered. It was the truth, and he deserved to know the truth. Keeping things from people under the guise of protecting them never worked out - they always found out eventually, and usually in the worst way.

But even she was slightly surprised when her voice came out oddly soft, almost pleading instead of pissed: "So please, Desmond. Just...talk to me."

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