just what he wanted; a vague, ambiguous question
provided as an answer. what is it with supernatural
entities & their smart ass retorts? what is it with their
frighteningly malevolent smiles? isaac doesn’t know.
nor does he care to find out.
fingers on the invisible trigger, he recuperates quickly
at the sight of a threat, the face he’d come to love now
bearing a similar expression to the night he first met
her. & he’ll never forget the lick of daggers across
fragile skin — blemishes that he tries so hard to scrub
away. this isn’t allison argent. this isn’t the girl with silver
blood & sensitive smiles.this also isn’t a mirage.
❝ Trouble. ❞
he answers honestly, tone strong & firm despite
how weak he feels inside. & he knows he’s grasping
at straws, trying so hard to seem put together, after
falling apart only moments prior. but he’s a wounded
animal, & he knows what it looks like when an apex
predator sets its sights. it’s a pity he’s in her cross-hair,
because isaac lahey doesn’t go down without a fight.❝ And you’re clearly far from human.
What do you want? ❞fingers clench at his sides as he prepares his body for
the oncoming storm, still uncertain if she’ll bow out & talk.
but he’s too tired for this. it constantly surprises him that
he’s still alive. isaac is slipping, so raw & hurt that he
sometimes wishes for his own demise. perhaps that’s
why a single question haunts his mind so frequently:how much pain can one endure
before their heart stops beating?
❝ – ; I’m flattered.❞
; a small smile will work it’s way onto her features,
a hand will reach over to wipe away some stray
wisps of black curls that frame her face, madness
& childish fear is the main cause for most of her actions,
she needs to push him away, needs to push herself
away, for reality is the harshest fate she could ever face,
a cage that she could never escape, so idiotic
smiles & absurd madness is her only escape, the only
way that she can deal with what she does.
❝ far from? I don’t know about you,
but physically, I’m very human.❞
; childish humour will pull at her wide orbs,
every part of her soul feels like it’s on fire.
the childish god had been reduced to exactly that,
a child, playing with other people’s heartstrings,
despite the consequences.
;; & she’s starting to realise just how awful
love’s poison arrows are, as it once more
start to bring back memories of who she
once was, of the girl that she loved and of
the girl that she lost, her true love.
; tears will bloom in both eyes, the name lingering upon her lips –
but it will not fall, remembering the one time she accidentally pricked
herself with her own arrow, and the consequences that had been
born upon such an event. Eyes will narrow, she has a strong
desire to not let such vulnerability show, to be fierce.
❝ I want to play, of course.
what else would I want?❞
7 years ago via allisonbreathed with 14 notes
#allisonbreathe #( ;v: ! ʟᴏᴠᴇᴄᴏɴϙᴜᴇʀs ᴀʟʟ ) #; this was painful to write #; almost as painful as our awkward conversation on skype was