isolt griffin
I'm more alive than I've ever been
There had been so terribly few moments in the years since her tragic end in which Isolt had felt elation as pure and as unfettered by doubt or trepidation as she did now. Her happiness was boundless, her soul no longer half in the tenebrific darkness that had lingered malifically in the periphery of her existence. She was standing before a man who, despite immortality's gifted resilience to such things, could still render her weak in the knees with naught more than a single, piercing glance in her direction. She was standing before the man that was to become her husband in the coming moments, her otherwise lithe frame plump with the promise of the family that they would soon share with one another, surrounded by those she cared most deeply for.
There was no grander euphoria than this, she was certain, as the officient pronounced them husband and wife and Damon swept her into his arms. Isolt was helpless against the smile that tugged shamelessly at the brims of her lips as they melded against her husband's, a delicate hand raising to coil into his hair. As a general rule Isolt was quite guarded when it came to matters of public affection, especially the grander displays that Damon seemed partial to pursuing as evidenced by the show he insisted upon making of this: their first kiss as a wed couple. But here and now, she hardly minded, instead allowing herself the indulgence of the caress as if she had been starved of it for an eternity.
As he rights her, though, Isolt must wage a not-inconsiderable battle to resist rolling her eyes at the whisperings of her lover, good-natured though the action certainly would have been. Instead does she lean in to allow her own lips access to his ear, imparting a playful prod of her own in this sensual, whispered joust. "How soon can we leave?" It is, admittedly, an impish farce as the fire-crowned damsel hardly intends to abandon their gathered guests in so sudden and unceremonious a fashion. Instead does she turn to the crowd, a small posse of caterers and their staff already moving to swirl about the scattered tables and the glistening wooden slab of the dance floor set a pace farther into the gardens. "Thank you all so very much for coming to share this night with us. Damon and I would like to invite you stay for dinner, dancing, and of course... drinking," she chuckles, motioning towards the just as a elaborately and elegantly-adorned reception area.
"I'll be just a moment, I want to find Harley," she offers, inclining towards Damon to brush a soft, affectionate kiss unto his lips before sauntering off into the bustling crowd.