He brushed his thumb across her lips. “I guess you're not as easy to forget as we'd hoped.
Kelly CreaghStichwörter: varen isobel pinfeathers
She wanted to touch him, to throw her arms around him — but something held her back. Maybe it was the fear that her arms would pass right through him, that she would have come all this way only to find a ghost after all.
As though he’d been able to read her thoughts, he slowly angled toward her. He raised his hands and held his palms out to her. Isobel lifted her own hands to mirror his. He pressed their palms together, his fingers folding down to lace through hers. She felt a rush of warmth course through her, a relief as pure and sweet as spring rain.
He was real. This was real. She had found him. She could touch him. She could feel him. Finally they were together. Finally, finally, they could forget this wasted world and go home.
"I knew it wasn’t true," she whispered. "I knew you wouldn’t stop believing." He drew her close.
Leaning into him, she felt him press his lips to her forehead in a kiss. As he spoke, the cool metal of his lip ring grazed her skin, causing a shudder to ripple through her.
"You..." His voice, low and breathy, reverberated through her, down to the thin soles of her slippers. "You think you’re different," he said. She felt his hands tighten around hers, gripping hard, too hard.
A streak of violet lightning split the sky, striking close behind them.
The house, Isobel thought. It had been struck. She could hear it cracking apart. She looked for only a brief moment, long enough to watch it split open.
"But you’re not," Varen said, calling her attention back to him. Isobel winced, her own hands surrendering under the suddenly crushing pressure of his hold. A face she did not recognize stared down at her, one twisted with anger — with hate.
"You," he scarcely more than breathed, "are just like every. Body. Else."
He moved so fast. Before she could register his words or the fact that she had once spoken them to him herself, he jerked her to one side. Isobel felt her feet part from the rocks. Weightlessness took hold of her as she swung out and over the ledge of the cliff.
As he let her go.
The wind whistled its high and lonely song in her ears. She fell away into the oblivion of the storm until she could no longer see the cliff — could no longer see him.
Only the slip of the pink ribbon as it unraveled from her wrist, floating up and away from her and out of sight forever.
Stichwörter: tragedy reunion varen isobel
I'll keep it," she said. "Then, when you get back, after you and the dark one are done making out and planning a future filled with blond-haired, green-eyed, pigment-challeneged rug rats, I'll bring it over and you can add it to your scrapbook, right before you start cooking me dinner. I like vegetarian lasagna with cottage cheese instead of ricotta."
"Gwen?"
"And don't forget the mushrooms. Garlic bread, too, please. That is, as long as your vampire lover doesn't object."
"I want to say thank you," Isobel said. "For... everything."
"No," Gwen said. "Thank you for the delicious dinner. I can almost taste the baklava you and Darth Vader will be making for dessert. Something tells me you're gonna have to look that one up, though.
Stichwörter: gwen nevermore isobel enshadowed
Even if this is a dream,” he whispered, “I'm not.
Kelly CreaghI can't help it that I'm susceptible to you," he whispered. "You know that. It's just that you're so...unreal...and so I have to touch you. If only to be certain that I'm not the one who's dreaming. You see, I hear that sort of thing is going around.
Kelly CreaghDreaming aside," he went on, "how can you be so sure your world is the real one?
Kelly CreaghShe felt him pull her to him. His voice, acidic and sharp, buzzed in her ear. "Soon...I'll be all that's left.
Kelly CreaghThat a single kiss from a boy who knew how to walk through dreams, who himself now seemed to be a dream, hadn't irrevocably altered her.
Kelly CreaghIn the shadows of the dreamland, he waits. He watches the gaping windows to the world he had so longed to open. Now flown wide, bleak and empty, ravaged-like him-it grants his wish. He belongs. It cannot compare to the memory of her eyes. Blue azure, warm as a summer sky. If he could but fall into their world. Would that he had. Now he write the end to the story that past its Midnight Dreary-that too late and hour-has its own without him. It was always, he knows now, meant to end this way. Like that circle that "ever returneth into the selfsame spot." My beautiful, my Isobel. My Love. You ask me to wait. And so I wait. For all of this, I know, is but a dream. And when, in sleep, at last we wake, I will see you again.
Kelly CreaghStichwörter: love-letter
Isobel, this was the only way I knew how to reach you. After tonight it will all go away. I never meant for you to be pulled into any of this-ever. Please believe that. Somehow I've lost control of everything. I only wish I could see you again. I wish I could tell you everything that I couldn't before. Most of all, I wish there was a way we could start over. Whatever happens now, please believe that I didn't mean for it to end this way. Yours always. - V
Kelly CreaghStichwörter: love-letter
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