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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 1:41:02 GMT -5
My Heart Holds No Regrets “It’s your time,” Isaac couldn’t count the amount of times those words had left his lips since he had become a Reaper, but they were always delivered the same way. Calm and level, with a hint of understanding that was tempered by steel. Many people tended to come along after that, as though the words were in some way a release from the ties that kept them there, lost and confused as the world moved around them. Some tried to barter and bargain, others tried to fight, but in the end, most came. Those that didn’t became someone else’s problem – generally speaking, anyway.
Reapers were guides. It wasn’t their job to chase down a reluctant spirit. Ghosts and poltergeists had their own roles to play in the natural order of things after all. Perhaps the only thing Isaac had carried forward from his time as a human was his refusal to allow a soul to run off and wreak havoc on the lives of others.
Isaac had been human not so long ago, by certain standards. In truth, it felt like an eternity and many lifetimes had passed since twenty one year old Isaac Morgan had denied his Reaper and forsaken his own sense of peace in order to bring that peace to someone else by becoming a vampire instead of letting go like he should have done. His brief year as a vampire before the disease of his nearly passed and soul forced back to its shell pulled him to his eternal rest was in many ways a blur.
It had been a year since then, by the time observed on Earth. For Isaac, in the realm of Hell it had been hundreds of years spent in education, direction and training. He had completed about eighteen collections when Heaven collapsed, freshly trained and new to the field. He’d been mildly astonished to realize only a year had passed – though in truth, the hundreds spent training didn’t feel as though they had taken quite so long. Time, Isaac had come to discover, was essentially meaningless to a Reaper.
Since the collapse of Heaven and the lock down that Hell had somehow fallen under, the rules had changed for all the Reapers. It was no longer a matter of guiding souls to Heaven or Hell. Regardless of who they were, everyone was being taken to Soul’s End and that was a problem. The Fields of Abaddon had never been meant to house the souls of humans. It was a holding pen for angels and demons until such a time as Reapers were sent in to cleanse them eternally. As with all such pens, the fighting was astronomical and the effects of that war on human souls was troubling for all of them. Especially considering the enormous influx that came of Heaven’s souls being dumped there when she collapsed.
A job was still in need of being done all the same. So Isaac, like his fellows, strode forth and continued to do it, all the while waiting for Death’s orders and some sign of the natural order returning back to normal. As Isaac placed his hand on the back of the dearly departed victim of an unfortunate motor accident, the Reaper swore he saw someone in the crowd, looking right at him.
It was unusual for a Reaper to be seen while on the job, but the sense of being seen was impossible to deny. Calmly, Isaac led his soul off and disappeared into the crowd and through the dimensions, crossing over with his parcel. Upon arrival in the Fields, he was asked if this was Heaven or Hell. As this man had been destined for the latter, Isaac informed him that for all intents and purposes, this was, indeed, Hell.
There was no proper place to leave these souls. No hierarchy or proper business, so Isaac simply left the man and returned promptly to the scene. It was not difficult to find the one he sought, the one who had seen him irrefutably. Nor was it perhaps all too kind of him to appear by his side after slipping over under his cloaking, but habit was what it was.
“Bonsior,” It was soft, archaically correct as ever. Dusk had long since come, and the chill of the air caused Isaac to tilt his head back in order to invite it upon him. He was not fond of the cold, but there were times, like this, when it was centering. There was a distinct pause, for though it was slight and almost non-existent, it was clear Isaac took a moment to determine his next words. “Mon ange.”
Isaac had no notion if Fenris had discovered the truth hidden for him in France, or if he had chosen to leave him a wound of the past. Regardless, the Reaper knew that he had no other words in which to greet this man, his vampire, that could be any more or less appropriate. "You are looking well," He observed, his words still quiet, though it seemed more for the fact they stood among a crowd, than for any other reason. There was a strength to his voice that had been lost long ago, though Isaac was hardly aware of it himself. Time, however insignificant to the Reaper, had changed him for the better whether he knew it or not.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 21:21:19 GMT -5
Fenris really didn't like the northern states. They were cold, the people were ruder than the majority of Americans that the vampire had met and or feasted upon, and they often tasted of exactly how their cities smelled. Up north it was like humanity had devolved into some basic, rudimentary work machine with a big ego and too much to do. One thing could be said, however - a larger population meant an easier hunting ground. The amount of murder that happened in the metropolitan areas of the Northern United States, especially on the east coast, made for easy pickings with little risk. As a vampire who had lost everything because of a few too many mistakes? He was no stranger to finding the least dangerous of locales to indulge in.
The majority of Pennsylvania was more tolerable than most of the north-eastern states, but Pittsburg was still a pimple on the face of what could have been a very beautiful place. It was noisy and violent - not so much as places like Denver or New York, at least, and the drivers? Some of the worst that the vampire had ever seen... and considering his own ability behind the wheel? That was saying something.
Fenris had a love for beautiful things. Loathe cars though he did, they were enchanting when crashed. It was one of his more macabre hobbies - accident watching, that is - if you asked him, but he was simply drawn to disasters that left bodies mangled and lives lost... so long as they were not that of his own kinsmen. That likely said something about him and his current level of bitterness, but he tried to avoid dwelling on that. Instead, he simply enjoyed what good timing and bad driving had given him.
Before authorities arrived, Fenris had managed to take the life of one survivor who was bleeding heavily and, by the stammer of her heart, wasn't going to make it long enough for the ambulance even to get to the scene. He felt good about himself for doing it - she had pleaded to him for help, crying and bleeding from a puncture wound between two ribs, and he had given it with a simple bite to the wrist and a careful tear of his teeth over an artery.
She had gone quickly.
He had lingered there by her side until authorities arrived, staying there to pet her head and soothe her as if he was simply a good samaritan trying to help. With the little bit of fresh blood he now had in him, he was able to avoid looking overly suspicious as he moved to the side to watch the remainder of the clean up.
The pile up had been massive - at least six lives were lost, and that hadn't taken into account the third car that Fenris had not bothered to investigate once it started smoking heavily. He watched ambulances and police cars arrive, their sirens brutal and screaming against overly sensitive ears. He must have growled, because the woman standing beside him looking horrified had moved away more quickly than she probably would have had he not made a noise.
No matter. The vampire reasoned, realizing it was probably better to be alone with so much blood about anyway. He had excellent control of himself, but one could never be too careful.
One face that he saw among the crowd was one too familiar and too impossible to ignore. Fenris had opened the letter - just days before, right before leaving for Pennsylvania. In fact, this had been a pit stop on his way to Paris to find what had been left for him. He had been spending a few days, working up the additional courage required to go and fetch his newest belongings - the ones that had belonged to Isaac who had been taken so soon... too soon, in all honesty.
So how was he here?
As quickly as Fenris had zeroed in on the face, staring with a look of terror and confusion, the vampire had cast his glance down to gather himself. He suddenly looked pained, felt pained, and didn't quite know what to do with himself. He breathed in sharply, eyes closing to fight back tears. Was he going crazy? Had Isaac just manifested out of some deep, long term grief he hadn't come to terms with?
The answer to his question came with the lack of a scent but the easy timbre of Isaac's voice, as strong as he had heard it the first time they had met, when the boy was threatening to decapitate him if he ever dared to show his face again. The french was old and easy on the ears, a sharp juxtaposition to the hiss, squeal, and boom of the city around them. Fenris found himself focusing on that gentle, familiar tone as he gathered himself once more and turned to observe the man beside him.
"I look well?" He asked almost curiously, glancing down at himself. "A year without me must have warped your perception of looking well." The vampire mustered the smallest smile he could as he took in the sight before him. He was quiet another moment before slowly saying what really should have been a question: "You died and you're here." It didn't make sense, but Fenris knew that nothing really did. The supernatural had a funny way of making things work. "Does this not hurt your ears?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 21:52:03 GMT -5
My Heart Holds No Regrets Isaac glanced over, taking in the sum total of Fenris’ appearance in a cursory look that should have been too swift for the level of detail attended to. Facing forward once more, Isaac’s lips pulled slightly upward, his calm expression touched by what looked like a now ancient fondness. “My perceptions of you have always been warped in some manner.” It was not a condemnation, nor an encouragement. It was truth, presented with a frank honesty that Isaac had always possessed but rarely showed in order to spare the feelings of others. Those days were long since buried, which perhaps was for the best.
At the comment, the smile faded and Isaac’s chin lifted in a sign of silent defiance and a quiet pride. He had wondered often if Fenris had ever looked. In the wake of the answer, Isaac showed not pain, nor understanding, but rather a noble indifference. There was a part of him that ached with the knowledge, but Isaac had learned to turn pain into pride. His response, when it came, was neither cruel nor kind. “You never went to Paris.” It was not an explanation nor a question, but a factual deduction. Had Fenris gone, this would be far less surprising to him.
Turning to face him directly, Isaac examined the vampire closely, noting the lines of pain on his ever-beautiful features. Reaching out, he traced along the other’s cheek gently, an old and familiar caress that had brought comfort once upon a time. “I am no longer walking wounded,” He answered carefully, his tone firm and assuring, “I am not what I once was, but the culmination of everything I remember still defines me.”
It was a convoluted way of saying he had gotten better, that he had changed, but remembered everything. In an even more complex way, it was a shrouded manner of confession. Isaac had no wish to speak it frankly. Fenris had chosen to let him go and there was no fault in that. As a reaper, Isaac was intimately familiar with the complications of grief. Fenris had done what had been best for him and Isaac was both too rooted in his neutrality and too aware of his old self to deliberately bring the other pain.
“It was good to see you again,” Isaac allowed, his tone genuine and gentle, tempered with understanding and a smile that held no pain. If Fenris remembered him at all, Isaac wished to be remembered like this – healthy, strong, and calm of spirit. He stepped back then, half turning away to slip into the crowd, intending to leave his angel to the life he had chosen and take the shadows with him.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 22:27:40 GMT -5
Isaac's voice was a comfort, but his soft touch was an oasis, a feeling repressed but not forgotten. Fenris melted against it, sighing heavily at the gentle brush of fingers against his cheek and letting his eyes close to hide from Isaac the relief and the pain that intermingled with them, though Isaac could likely sense it. He always had seen right through the vampire who had torn his life from him in the first place.
Or maybe Fenris was just easy to read.
Either way, eyes only opened when the touches stopped. He sighed softly, nodding in understanding of all that Isaac had said. He understood, at least a bit, what his love was trying to tell him... the specifics were still lost.
Then there was mention of Paris and Fenris froze. Every cell in his body went rigid, even the habitual, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest stopped. He was, for that moment, dead, cold, a corpse frozen in time. He knew he should have opened that letter sooner, knew that he ought to have faced his grief in better time. Instead he had waited, and in doing so, had wounded Isaac all over again.
When the reaper turned to leave, Fenris reached out and grabbed for his wrist, hoping that whatever Isaac had become was tangible enough to hold. To touch, he knew, but he was terrified that anything more than the lightest brush of fingers would cause the whole illusion to shatter. He was absolutely ecstatic to find that Isaac did not disappear in a cloud of smoke or shatter into a thousand pieces as a firm hand closed around his wrist. Fenris tugged, lightly, wordlessly asking Isaac to return to their conversation.
"I meant to." It was a terrible answer and a worse excuse, but Fenris had to explain. "I was going. Soon. Within a week, maybe two." That wasn't helping. The vampire sighed weakly, eyes saddened as they looked to Isaac. "I'm not immune to mistakes, Little one." That was something Isaac already knew more than anyone else, but Fenris felt compelled to reiterate. "But I was afraid of what I might find should I go there. I didn't want to... see you and not be able to speak with you. Your body, I assumed it would still be..." He trailed off now, audibly struggling to find words. "I was too afraid to feel that grief so completely. So I waited to read the letter, as if waiting would make you wait, too. I knew as soon as that letter came that you were gone. It wasn't... right of me to not read it when it was sent. It was selfish?" For when was Fenris not selfish in some capacity? He had accepted it long ago and he hoped that Isaac saw the admission for what it was - less of an apology and more of a reassurance that the man that he'd spent so much time tangled in had not changed or forgotten himself despite his pain.
"Don't go. Not yet. Please."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 22:56:25 GMT -5
My Heart Holds No Regrets The feeling of fingers wrapping tight and firm about his wrist stilled the reaper mere moments before he would have disappeared, cloaked by the invisibility his kind had adopted over the millennia in order to complete their work more swiftly. Isaac was quiet, not because he was indifferent to what Fenris had done, but because he had forgotten what it felt like to have someone clutch at him like this because they wanted him. Many young children held his hand as he walked them to their final resting places, and sometimes the elderly held his wrist for a semblance of strength and balance. The last time he had been held like this, for want, had been when he had been a human hunter with a little sister who didn’t want him to go and save a father who had given them nothing to deserve such an act.
Blinking away the surge of remembrance, Isaac shifted and turned so that he was drawn back in by the grip Fenris had taken on his wrist. The answers, the explanations that fell from the vampire’s lips were met with the ghost of a smile. He understood, just as he had always done, but it felt good all the same to hear it in so many words.
“Mistakes?” Isaac could not help but repeat, moving closer still, forgoing the boundaries of personal space as he slipped closer to his vampire. “Loving someone is never a mistake, mon ange,” The endearment was all but whispered. If anyone remained in this world but Corbin who knew well the tale of Isaac Morgan, the fact that he could say this and mean it in full was perhaps the greatest sign of healing imaginable. “I do not fault you your grief.” It was absolution, something that Isaac could offer this man because the crime, such as it was, had been against him. It did not infringe upon neutrality to love someone enough to forgive their faults, after all.
Laughing lightly – a true and hearty sound – Isaac allowed himself to be indulgent, leaning forward and pressing the softest of kisses to Fenris’ cheek. It was familiar and chaste, a sign of affection and amusement to soften the blow of his following honesty. “You have always been selfish, my dear Fenris. Far be it from me to expect that to change.” The level of amusement in Isaac’s normally calm tone seemed to indicate he didn’t want it to change, either.
Stepping back, Isaac tilted his head back and closed his eyes, cocking it to the side as though listening to something. After a moment, his eyes opened once more, an eerie glow passing and fading through in a manner of seconds before he afforded Fenris a small smile. “It seems I have time,” He returned, having checked to see who was working the roster and if there was room for an early break. “Why don’t we go somewhere a little less crowded?” The suggestion came without ulterior motive, but for the desire to speak without being overheard.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2013 1:13:50 GMT -5
Isaac came back without argument or question and relief flooded every inch of Fenris' body. He sighed out heavily, let his eyes close in appreciation. When he opened them again he had let go of the other man, not so worried that he would run off or disappear now. Fenris' stomach was in knots that were almost painful, and he was feeling things he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't exactly what he could call pleasant, but he would gladly feel this feeling for a thousand more lifetimes if it meant keeping Isaac around. Unfortunately, however, he had a sinking feeling that the other man - the boy - wouldn't stick around that long. The idea of Isaac being alive and not his hurt Fenris worse than the idea of Isaac being dead, so he decided to try his best to simply not think about it. It would be easier that way.
Fenris smiled lightly, his happiness still laced with pain even as Isaac began to relax a bit and to look more lighthearted than Fen had really ever seen him. Isaac shone when he was happy, and it was one of the vampire's favorite things. "You were never a mistake. Loving you was never a mistake. Letting you go? That was. Not opening the letter you sent me? An even bigger one." And Fenris truly meant this. For the first time in a long time he wasn't speaking words simply to hear his own voice.
Isaac was so close now, and still so far away. The scent he had once carried had disappeared and Fenris found himself seeking it out desperately, as if it was a part of Isaac that had gone missing during their time apart. It felt strange, not to have that unforgettable musk constantly lingering in a way that used to make Fen's head spin. It would take some getting used to, the vampire reasoned, though he quickly figured he'd never quite approve of it or appreciate it... scent was important; there were a thousand things that scent alone could say and losing that? With that, Fenris lost many other important things.
But Isaac? He was the most important thing and he was standing right there. Fenris had to press himself forward, to remind himself of that fact while he still could. There was almost no space left between them when the reaper leaned in to press a kiss to the nobleman's forehead, making him close his eyes with the recollection of a thousand identical kisses before that. He smiled at Isaac's words, taking them for what they were - not an insult or a jab at his ego. Isaac loved Fenris for Fenris... he wanted no change, and that was something the vampire could very much appreciate.
"Lets." Fenris said softly, extending an arm to Isaac in an all too gentlemanly way at the suggestion of finding somewhere more private. "I've rented a motel room. It's hardly anything like home but it'll do, if you're willing to join me." Fenris wondered what Isaac thought of when he heard the word home. Did he still see the manor back in New Orleans? Had he ever even thought of that as a home? Was that really a question that Fenris wanted to linger on? "I've missed spending time with you quite a lot."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2013 14:15:19 GMT -5
My Heart Holds No Regrets Isaac's lips turned up into a soft smile as Fenris spoke, love and regret lacing heavily through the vampire's tone in a manner the reaper knew and understood all too well. "It is what it is Fenris," Isaac commented, his tone automatically adopting the consolatory air used on particularly grieving souls. It offered absolution, forgiveness, peace and promise. In some cases for the Hellbound, it was a lie, but that was simply part of the job. You needed your souls to follow you whether it required honesty or deception. "You need not tear yourself up over it any longer."
The reaper could see Fenris straining, see him searching for something, and it took Isaac a moment to realize what it was. Despite himself, Isaac burst out laughing at the realization. "Sorry," He managed, his eyes still laughing as he waved a hand and dropped the secondary cloaking that he hadn't let fall since he had changed. Had it not been for Fenris, he may well have eventually forgotten that it existed, the subconscious maintenance of blocking his scent was so well ingrained now.
It was different, older and more refined than before, with a layer over it that was the mark of his new species. Like dust and ancient tomes, books and old tea shops, the scent brought to mind thoughts of age and quiet. Yet beneath it, subtle and mild, was the individual scents of what the reaper had once been. Like Corbin and the others, Isaac would lose that individuality in time, lose it to the musk of death and silence, of peace and gentle age. For now, his youth as a reaper allowed him to remain somewhat familiar in this regard.
"I'd forgotten that was there," Isaac mused, even as he reached out and laced his arm through the vampire's with ease. With a smile that seemed to come just as easily, the reaper gave a slight nod. "That sounds pleasant," It was an agreement to the location without any additional commentary to mar the situation. Urging Fenris idly to lead on, Isaac followed at his side comfortably, a gentle chuckle escaping him at Fenris' words. "As I have missed my time with you, mon ange." Glancing over as they walked, Isaac's expression faded to something a little more serious. "How have you been, truly?" It wasn't a question about emotions, so much as events, though perhaps Isaac could have worded it a bit more clearly.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2013 15:29:58 GMT -5
The laugh sounded like music and could have made Fenris melt. All at once it was like every bit of Isaac was back and he felt...okay. Better than okay. He felt almost like he was made for this moment, and that was fine. He'd remember this for the rest of his life, he realized, chest puffing with appreciation for the sensation of having Isaac back and beside him. "No need to apologize, little one. Time has given you new ability, and you've become accustomed to it. I can't fault you for that."
They walked in silence after that, at least until Isaac asked him how he'd been. Fenris saw that for what it was; he figured the other man could guess from their previous exchange what it was that Fen had been feeling... so that left very little else to talk about in terms of his internal affairs. "I've busied myself when I can. The coven is small again... Laure's taken to lavish parties that often end with me having to tear a man's head off when she's inevitably offended by him. Luckily they aren't usually human, so I haven't had to face the consequences of such things yet... well. Not in a way that has turned things completely sour, at least."
More than one vampire had gotten too out of line and had to be put down, much to the disdain of a long time covenmate or friend. Unfortunately, Fenris believed strongly in the old 'my house, my rules' mantra, and most visitors now knew precisely what would befall them if they stepped out of line. Fen found a decent distraction in the presence of others of his kind and various other species - it was what life should have been like for him as a human, and it was an easy way to forget the trouble for a night or two.
"Aisla is as feisty as ever and Henri is... a comfort at best and a mind annoyance at worst, as always." Fenris smiled slightly, glad to talk about his coven to someone who understood their intricacies as Isaac did. "In short, things haven't changed much... we keep ourselves as busy as is comfortable." He almost said 'as we know how', but Isaac knew better than anyone that the vampires in Fenris' coven were accustomed to a life of luxury and relaxation as opposed to anything else. "...What about you?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2013 3:46:08 GMT -5
My Heart Holds No Regrets Isaac smiled as Fenris fluffed out, offering his understanding by way of an almost veiled praise. It amused the reaper, who had yet to reveal what, in fact, time had done to him. Nor did Isaac intend to do so. Everything he needed to say, all that he needed to explain, had already been written. He had no which to cheapen the experience by offering any revelations now - though if he were completely honest, Isaac wasn't certain he could be as eloquent on the fly and had too much pride now to debase himself in trying. Fenris would go to read the truth that was left for him, or he would take this moment for what it was and carry on. It would be what it would be.
Isaac listened quietly as Fenris spoke of the coven, the faces associated to the names coming to mind with a familiar sense of acceptance. They had never been family, but he had been loyal to them for the brief period in which they had all been together. Perhaps if time had been different, they all would have become dear, but such thoughts were spared little attention. What if was for humanity to lose itself in; a reaper's mind was built to be more organized and logical. What if was a dream line, serving no purpose but to idle the time away. If you had time to be idle, you had time to work.
He did give a soft snort at the mention of Laure's offended responses, knowing full well how those ended. Anyone who saw fit to rile her up deserved to be thrown out of the manor, plain and simple. Fenris' traditional manner was one that Isaac had always believed in strongly. The host's house, the host's laws. Like it or leave it, there was never need for an in between.
The reaper inclined his head slightly at the mention of Henri, knowing well how much he meant to Fenris and finding himself glad that the other vampire remained a comfort for him. "Some things are not meant to change," Isaac mused, thinking that Fenris' life had been a calm thing before Darren had disrupted the entire coven. It was good to know they had found their center again, even if it was not as lavish as they remembered.
Isaac waited until they had moved passed the lobby of Fenris' hotel before answering the question directed at himself. "I have been well," Isaac knew that answer to be brutally vague and forced himself to afford the man more than that. "I've adjusted well to my new life and ways. There are times when it can be exasperating," He mused, his business tone creeping in on him before he could curb it, "But I do what must be done regardless."
In the vampire's hotel room, Isaac brushed his fingers over the other's cheek to make it clear his next words were not meant as a blow, but were merely honest. "There is more to tell, but I would rather not tell it twice. Those answers wait for you in France I'm afraid."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2013 18:47:32 GMT -5
In the hotel room, Fenris stripped himself of the tailored coat he wore and draped it carefully over the back of the chair settled at the desk. The room wasn’t large by any means but it was about as well decorated as it could get and it proved incredibly comfortable for what the vampire was looking for. It was really just a place to escape the heat of the sun during the day and to bring his prey in the evening, if he needed to. It wasn’t like he’d be staying long, anyway, so it worked for what he needed. The room was warm and cozy, made even better by the presence of Isaac. Isaac had always tended to make Fenris feel more at home and the time spent apart had not created any exceptions to the rule.
“I understand,” Fenris breathed softly, giving Isaac the most gentle of smiles. “I’ll be leaving for France first thing in the evening tomorrow… I was going to spend a few more days here but… I see no reason to put it off any longer now that I know you’re… well, it doesn’t need saying.” His smile grew then as he looked over the reaper. “I’m glad you’ve adjusted… you always did seem good at that.” He moved towards Isaac, laying an innocent hand onto his shoulder. He squeezed lightly, his thumb rubbing gently against the younger man’s back.
“Lord, Isaac, I missed you.” He hummed after a moment, the urge to kiss him was overwhelming but after all this time Fen had absolutely no idea how his former lover would react. He had no idea if such a thing was allowed… and frankly he was afraid to find out, mostly because the idea of being rejected was far from a good one. What he couldn’t resist was the opportunity to wrap his arms around Isaac and to draw him into his chest. The vampire pressed his face gently against the soft hair he remembered so well and took in the scent, eyes closing as he reveled in the moment.
“I never knew how much you meant to me until I couldn’t hold you anymore, Little One.” Fenris felt awfully sentimental which, honestly, he had been attempting to avoid. Now that it was all out in the open, however, he’d all but given up. “Is there any way…” He trailed off, fishing for words. How does one ask the man they abandoned for a second chance when there might not even be possibility for one? “Are there rules now? For what you are?” Fenris wouldn’t pretend he knew much about reapers – he knew they existed, which was why he’d been able to put two and two together without explicit detail when Isaac had appeared to him. Past that, though, he had no idea. He was hoping for what very well could be impossible, and that didn’t even take into account the fact that Isaac may have moved on, or perhaps felt that Fenris wasn’t exactly a… reliable partner thanks to the history of leaving Isaac for Darren. Fen could only hope that wasn’t the case, as it would hurt far worse than anything else Isaac could say. Moving on he could understand, but to know that Isaac thought less of him? That would be pure pain. “I still love you, and I always will… regardless of what you feel for me. I just want you to know that.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 26, 2013 15:17:58 GMT -5
My Heart Holds No Regrets Isaac did not remove his coat upon entering the vampire's hotel room. The article of clothing was rather a part of him now, as unchanging as his face was soon to be. Removing it would have felt as odd to him as removing a hand, or a leg at this juncture, though of course he did not say or indicate as much. Instead, he merely smiled at Fenris and inclined his head, showing he understood the other's new-found desire to fly to France, when he had avoided it for so long. At the comment, Isaac gave a low chuckle.
"My adjustment comes not as swiftly as you would presume, I am sure," He commented mildly, thinking of the hundred or so years spent in training in the second tier. He did not brush aside the vampire's grip, though his eyes drifted toward it for a brief moment before returning their gaze to Fenris' face. His smile was soft and understanding at the other's words, and he could see that Fenris was struggling with something. Rather than give an easy out, as he would in the past, Isaac remained silent and allowed his quiet to urge Fenris into speaking for himself.
The endearment brought a spark of long-forgotten warmth to Isaac's heart, his gaze softening as Fenris' voice hitched away on his thoughts. The questions, when they came, brought a soft but not unkind chuckle from Isaac's lips. "I imagine there would be, were you human," The reaper replied somewhat nonchalantly, "Or anything living, for that matter." He did not need to explain what he was - he could tell that somehow, Fenris had parsed the truth for himself. "As you are something rather in between, one of the grey sons, the rules are more like guidelines," He stated mildly, eyes brightly teasing for a brief moment, before the spark was dulled by the eternal calm of his gaze once more.
Reaching out, Isaac gently touched Fenris' cheek. The words that came must have cost the vampire something - pride, perhaps - but they were not met with cruelty or dismissal. Instead, Isaac merely leaned forward and pressed the softest of kisses to Fenris' forehead. "I've always been yours, mon ange, and that has not changed."
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