FALLEN | rowan whitethorn x oc

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - acceptance and their secrets

"I like you, Lorcan, don't let him get to you" The lion assured him. One of his hands resting on the brooding male's shoulder.

He nodded, and then turned his gaze at Rowan. Pointedly. Expectantly. Rowan noticed this, and sighed. "I like you, Lorcan," He mumbled.

"Thank you"

"Fucking babies" Fenrys muttered.

"Says the one who needs constant words of validation" Lorcan mocked, in a singsong voice that Isabella had never heard before. Not from him.

In fact, she had never seen him in such a state before. Not relax, but rather, open. Friendly. Or as close as he could get to it. Amused. As if he were trying...though Isabella was not sure what for. Despite the fact that this new side of the male was slightly unnerving, it was not unwelcomed. In fact, Isabella liked it. It made her feel...as if she fit in. With them.

A warm feeling spread in her stomach, in her chest, and it was enough for her to forget about the nightmares of the last few days -momentarily- and eat while the others chatted.

~

In the midday hours, Isabella sat on her bed. She was a little bit afraid of falling again if she dared to lay on it unless it was for sleeping. Actually, the idea terrified her. She was still wary of her strength, and the bed -and all the memories and emotions that she had felt while laying on it- was like a monster ready to drown her if she gave it the chance.

She didn't want that.

She thought that, perhaps, that was already a good sign. The first step into a healthier life.

Isabella was so tired of feeling drenched from life, as if she had died years ago and it was only her ghost -filled only with negative thoughts- the way she wandered the earth. She wanted it all to stop. She wanted to stop choking on her self-pity, she wanted to look back at her past and be able to recognize the good moments; even if they were stained with blood.

Isabella longed for the sense of life, for it to burn brightly in her soul, and for the pain to go away.

However, she knew it would never leave her. The aching weighing down her soul would always accompany her -and embrace her like an old friend as it descended upon her-, but she also knew that time would help her. That time was a healer. An undying source of strength and hope she needed to learn how to clung to.

Time would help her numb the pain. It would not make her forget, but it would help.

But firstly, she needed to want it. She needed to put mind into it, she needed to dance with the change.

A part of Isabella wanted it. That, and more. An even smaller, darker, and hopeless part of her could even imagine it...

It would have to be enough. For now.

It will, she told herself. It will.

~

When the moon made its appearance and the darkness along with it, Isabella could still not bring herself to even place a hand on her bed. The mere sight of it, now that it was only illuminated by the dim light from a candle while the stars shone in the sky, made her stomach turn, and her hands to tremble.

She tried to look through her window, but even the misty, obsidian sky sent shivers running down her spine. Nothing of this had happened to her before, but she was no stranger to the development of new fears. Isabella was a master at it.

Isabella willed herself to try again. One limb at a time. She managed to sit before the bile rose in her throat and she had to run for a bathroom to vomit. Her vision was dizzy, she was cold -and yet, sweating-, her whole body shook with her panicked tremors, and her breath was jagged.