Together, we heal | Levi Ackerman

༅ 27. We, The Sinners

Under The Light, Part 10: We, The Sinners

Year 844

Somewhere off the luscious valleys and the misty skylines, I hear a dainty and ebullient voice counting numbers. One by one, the voice chants the digits like a solemn mantra of a hopeless romantic plucking petals off daisies.

"Eleven...Twelve... Thirteen... Fourteen... Fifteen... Huh, fifteen? Is that right? Seven plus eight is fifteen?"

She always counts numbers as if her entire life rests on it -- would use her tiny and cold fingers for guidance likened to a compass leading her in her journey, right from Point A to Point B.  And when she arrives, she'd look up at me with those shiny starlit eyes no other child-like wonder could ever rival.

She always comes to me, no matter how far she strays off. And somewhere at the end of a winding road, I'd always be there, waiting for her arrival.

And I'd sit there, awed and lovestruck, as she greets me. Her face never fails to leave me tongue-tied. My lungs tighten, and the air hastily slips from my lips when my eyes would dive deep into her innocence and soul.

"That's right! You're doing so well, Isabel! Goodness, you'll outsmart me soon..." I hear myself say, gushing with fondness and delight that will last a millennium or two.

She laughs -- full of vigour and life. I'd think how that mellifluous sound alone is enough to thaw the icy grounds, and summon the spring. I feel myself smile, lean back, and close my eyes as I relish in the cadence of her musical piece of laughter.

"Arrgh, sis! You're just saying that to make me feel better!"

There goes that scrunch on her small button nose. The petty scowl she'd make for every time she falls victim to our teases and pleasantries. It's these moments when I have to resist the urge to pinch her cheeks.

But today, I give into the temptation.

I reach out my arms, cup her cheeks, and squish the being out of her. A spew of whines and muttered curses greet me back but she does no effort to fight my prying hands. I always know that secretly, this girl loves it whenever I slather her with my skinship.

Amidst of it all, I feel a strong arm creeping its way around my shoulders, and pulling me to their side. I don't even need to look up to see who it is for I am no stranger to the only man of whom I know could ever feel this warm, soft, and snug. The man who has a heart much purer than any precious mineral the earth could ever hone.

"Ready to serve as our accountant and handle the expenses and our funds?"

The man jokes with a snicker as I feel his chest vibrating. He looks down and flashes me a toothy smile.

"What do you think, Vanya? It's about time Isabel makes herself useful here."

"Oh, screw you, Furlan! Like hell you'd want me to take care of our money," the little girl groans, pointing her pencil accusingly at the man. "And I'll have you know, I've been nothing but damn well useful in this gang!"

Everyone knows it. Ever since she became a part of the gang, it was like a prodigal daughter has finally returned to a broken family who never knew they were missing a piece until she came crashing into our lives like a hurricane.

"She's right," the words came out along with my giggles. "What are we without Isabel?"

Indeed, what are we without her? What is the world without her laughs, the spark in her eyes, and the vitality in her spirit?