It’s a ridiculous answer, the one she provides him with.
Whoever she is, she’s a true riddler in training, tongue-tying
& mind whirring as he tries his best to decipher the hidden
meaning in her answer. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for.
Hell— he didn’t even expect her to reply to him, thinking she
was just a whimsical imaginary product of a grief-stricken
mind. He starts at her voice, shoulders tense & heart tenser;
she sounds just like Allison Argent. & yet, she sounds entirely
different. Confusion so commonly decorates his features now,
that he’s surprised it hasn’t become an expression permanently
etched into his skin.
& perhaps he should be frightened that he’s meeting
a girl who mirrors the girl he used to be still is in love
with, given his recent run in with the evil twin of his
alpha’s best friend, but he doesn’t get the impression
that he’s in danger. He doesn’t feel like she exists to
threaten his existence. In fact, he feels the complete
opposite ; uncharacteristic warmth & safety.
It’s equal parts welcomed as it is terrifying.
❝ i don’t know who you are, but you look just like her.
you probably already know that though, right? ❞
He takes several steps closer to her form, curiosity
outweighing the latent fear that tugs at his core.
Isaac Lahey is a bumbling combination of nervous
energy & sharp, concentrated pain. The familiar face
is enough to make his emotions wobble haphazardly,
but he’s quick to mask them with a few well-timed blinks,
& a hand pressed to the corner of his mouth. But it’s tragic,
because her face is just as beautiful as he remembers.
❝ is there a reason you’re following me? ❞
He hopes the question doesn’t push her to leave.
He wants nothing more than for her to stay.
❝ ; - everyone says that …❞
it’s no surprise, really, for such words are commonly
said in her presence, — no one knew that it was
the argent girl who had stolen her face, not the
other way around. but all is forgiven in the presence
of him; – the boy made of s t a r d u s t, the boy
who had loved, and the boy that would love.
❝ ; I can’t see the resemblance, personally.❞
her mouth will pull into a smile, a small
laugh blooming from both lips, happiness
coming from her own joke, sweeping away
all of the cobwebs that linger in her mind.
she is, and will always be, childish.
❝ oh yes, there is — but you see, I shan’t tell you,
because you didn't say please, has anyone
ever told you that you have atrocious manners?❞
; this will be said with a smile and a spark
that appears in both eyes, she's been
feeling awfully playful lately, her hands
reaching to pull at other people’s heart-
strings, taunting & teasing, her sharp
teeth picking at every insecurity.
but she won’t be cruel to the boy, for his heart had
been bruised beyond recognition, her bloody handprints
placed all over his heart, his soul. guilt was not an
emotion in which she was familiar with, but upon the
sight of his face, will it resurface – a beast that feeds
away at every single thought, coiling in the middle of
her stomach, causing her to squirm. this is why she
needed jokes, this is why she needed to forget.