isolt griffin

In this moment it is easy enough to forfeit the knowledge that this magnanimous blessing came with a caveat of its own time constraint. This happiness came with an expiration. The notion that this gift was finite simply dissolved into the ether, and for a time Isolt labored blissfully beneath the delusion that this moment could be endless. That the tide of darkness which had swallowed her had ebbed, retreated from the blazing tendrils of the sun, to leave her here where she belonged... visions of the past dripping from the canvas of her mind as if saturated and cleansed by the contents of that one little vial. There was not even the barest passing thought proffered to the axiomatic certainty that this hope was a farce. Isolt knew peace and such sweet, sweet bliss in the comforting arms of the denial she gave herself over to so voluntarily.

It is in this same spirit of reckless abandon that she calls to him, a curled finger and siren's simper seemingly all the allure required to bring him to her. It was an ode to the magic the manner in which the sun played joyously against his features. Isolt had only ever seen him in darkness, had only ever experienced him beneath one shroad or another... whether a tenebrific garb of Risque's hand or the alcoholic stupor that had guided the evening she was wont to hold on to. But never had she seen him like this, bared in this manner so that the light might skate over his chiseled jaw, the slope of his nose, the subtle bow of his lips. He was... breathtaking in a way that she could have only ever imagined him to be. A whimsical smile creases her ruby lips at the thought, the blue of her eyes lingering unabashed upon him for a moment longer before she turns them to the sun once again. "This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen," she muses, an elegant smile perusing the edges of her lips.

Silence holds them for a time, punctuated solely by the soothing rumble of the coming waves as they crested upon the shore, engulfing Isolt's feet and engaging her in their timely dance. Until... the gentle thud of something at her toes draws the vampire's attention downward, an ornately-hued shell tumbling about in the steady wash of the tide. She gathers it within her delicate hands, supple fingertips caressing its every ridge as if she might memorize it this way before quietly and timidly proffering it to the man at her side much as he had done all those months prior. "It'll hardly be the most beautiful thing in your treasure trove... but maybe it will make you think of me. Maybe it'll make you want to come around more," she whispers, the uncertainty inherent in her own words evident in the look she offers before turning away, a telling blush creeping to the apples of her cheeks.