isolt griffin

I'm more alive than I've ever been

Isolt allows herself a moment of selfish indulgence within which she lavishes the warmth that permeates from his skin, the darkly-alluring aroma of his cologne as it curls in clandestine plumes about them, and the sensation of his arms wrapped around her. It would have been cruelly disingenuous for the young woman to have denied that she had entertained a few fantasies about what it would have been like had the fates woven the tapestry of her love story in a different fashion. There could exist not a shard of doubt that her love for Damon was a thing for the ages, an absolute amidst a world of uncertainty, but... so too was this. Was it possible for a person to feel the terrifying bliss of two true loves in a single lifetime? She could not help but believe that it was so, for no sooner could the vampire queen imagine this life without Tetradore's presence than she could imagine one bereft her fiance. They had shared so very much in the years that they had known one another: agony, despair, heartache... and an undeniable and enduring care for one another. Though Isolt could not and would not dare speak for her counterpart, she knew that Tetradore had forever altered the course of her life. He had damned her and he had saved her; he had ushered the closing of the curtain upon the stage of her mortal life and yet, in time, had proven a savior of sorts in his own right.

But the redheaded damsel does not think of these things tonight. Not now, not in the moments that his lips press against her forehead and his hand rests gently upon the small of her back. "Absolutely," she whispers insistently, allowing her companion to relieve her of the bulging tote that she carries. Instead does she turn towards their chariot for the evening's venture... and a chariot indeed it is. For too long a moment does Isolt's mouth hang ajar at the sight of the immaculate sports car that rests with such understated innocence against the curb. She knew, of course, of Tetradore's vast cache of miscellaneous treasures that included a salacious number of equally as magnificant vehicles; however, as the young woman slides her lithe frame into the leather cradle of the passenger seat she can do naught to stifle the awe that consumes her. Awe that only swells as a rolling wave within her as they careen down the sleepy streets of Isolt's neighborhood and beyond, the vampire monarch stretching an arm out of the vehicle's open window to allow the evening's cool zephyr to glide through her reaching fingertips, casting a beaming grin towards her counterpart as she does so.

It is no considerable amount of time before the sports car slides to a halt, the crumbling asphalt popping and crackling beneath its tires. Testament to her excitement, Isolt hops from the luxurious confines of the vehicle, gleaming copper curls dancing about as she casts her eyes to her counterpart to ensure that he follows. She nearly flings the sandles from her feet, much preferring the freedom of her bare feet as they delve into the embrace of the powdery sand. She waits in what may have been considered a patient fashion as Tetradore makes his way towards her with their meal in tow. "I haven't been out here since the... the sunrise," she offers in a marginally more subdued tone than her earlier flamboyance might have promised. "Have you?" No doubt she can recall it as if it had only been yesterday; it had proven to be an experience that Isolt would hold fast to even as the crashing waves of time sought to pilfer it from her, to corrode it through the coming centuries until it was naught but the esoteric haze of a forgotten dream. And so this place, this beach, was somewhat of a sacred place for her... one she had not, and likely would not ever, share with another soul apart from him.

For a few long moments does she simply meander beside the emerald-eyed man, one hand hooked into the crook of his arm, the evening breeze toying playfully with the incandescent fire of the curls that hang loosely about her bare shoulders. "This looks like a good spot, yeah?" Looking to her partner for affirmation, the young woman sifts through the contents of the bag she has brought, flinging a blanket down unto the softly rolling sand and lowering herself unto it. "Now," she exclaims, motioning towards the picnic basket that Tetradore still holds. "I was going to make you something more picnic-y, but I know you have a monster sweet tooth so I... well, you'll see," she giggles, allowing a moment for her compatriot to reveal the delectable smorgasbord that she had created just for him.