☆ chapter eight ☆

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(Y/N'S POV)

~a week later~

1:35 AM. Isaac's plane was due to land in less than an hour and a half. I moved some of Luka's stuff from the guest bedroom into my room to free up space for Isaac. It wasn't much, just a toothbrush and some extra clothes. I would have just brought Luka's shit over to his place, but I couldn't imagine he wouldn't come over even with Isaac here. But anyway, the apartment was Isaac-ready. I paced around the kitchen trying to find some busywork to keep me occupied as I buzzed with energy, despite it being quite early in the morning.

2:26 AM. The night lights of Paris passed overhead as I drove to the Charles de Gaulle Airport. Lizzy McAlpine's Erase Me played softly through the speakers and the turns felt like a blur. Dangerously enough, it didn't even register with me that I was driving. I subconsciously noted the traffic signals as they came. Red Light. Yellow Light. Red. Green. Red.

2:48 AM. I sat in the nearly-dead airport, bouncing my leg. Isaac's plane was due at 3, but 12 minutes felt too long to wait. Echoed flight calls filled the vacant airport as I sat, scrolling through my phone. I got a text.

eye saack <3: look up, nerd

eye saack <3: -_-

My head shot up and there he was, five feet away from me, in all his glory. I allowed myself about four seconds of slack-jawed awe before I couldn't hold back my smile anymore.

"Isaac Lombardi, as I live and breathe!" I brought my left hand to my chest and my right to my forehead, pretending to faint a little.

"Tis I!" He jumped a little and rushed forward, engulfing me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Air–" I wheezed.

"Sorry." He loosened his grip but didn't stop the hug, which I was grateful for. After all, we had four years to make up for. I missed this.

We finally pulled apart and it occurred to me just how different he looked. I mean, sure, I had seen him over FaceTime like three times every week since I left, but there's something to say about seeing him in-person. His style hadn't changed much– he was still sporting the same hawaiian-shirt-over-obscure-graphic-tee look he had been rocking since high school. His dark shaggy hair was mostly the same, although he had gotten decidedly better at cutting it. I couldn't really pinpoint any changes, but something felt new. Some intangible quality I couldn't place.

"Keep staring, I might do a trick." Isaac raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

"Sorry, I'm just processing the fact that you're actually here," I said. "It's a lot."

"You're telling me?" He laughed. "My brain is still catching up with reality. Might be jetlag, but who knows." He picked up his bags. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, but only after you let me carry something for you." I stuck out an open hand.

"Absolutely not. I can handle it." Isaac's surprising amount of luggage was clearly weighing him down.

"You doing ok there?" I tried to stifle my laughs as I watched him struggle.

"Oh please. I am strong and capable and–" He dropped a bag. "...horrible at packing for necessity, please take something–"

"That's what I thought, dipshit." I grabbed the fallen bag and we walked to the car with much more ease. We finally got situated in the car, with all Isaac's luggage in the back. Except his camera. Naturally, he wanted to film everything.

"It's for my project." Isaac shrugged. "What if something amazing happens? Or something cool 'n artsy?" He mocked.

"No, no, you don't need to explain. You're talking to a photographer, remember?"

"How could I forget? I'm in the presence of the next Man Ray here." He pressed record and zoomed in. "Say hi, Y/N!"

"Hi." I rolled my eyes. "Is Man Ray the only photographer you know?"

"No, he just seemed fitting. Y'know, cause he spent so much time in Paris." Isaac tapped his forehead. "Like you."

"Well, duh. I live here."

"Unfortunately." He sighed as I pulled out of the parking space. "Anything fun planned for tonight? This morning? Whatever time it is?"

"You're not tired?"

"No, not really. I slept on the plane. You?"

"Strangely, me neither. Maybe we can watch a movie or something when we get back."

~back at Y/N's apartment~

"Nice place you got here, L/N. 11/10." Isaac said as he walked out from the guest room, holding my cat.

"What the fuck? You've been here all of 5 minutes and Castor lets you pick him up?" I sighed, annoyed at the small calico.

"He was surprisingly calm about it. He doesn't let you?" Isaac looked down at Castor and smiled.

"Almost never. The only other person he's ever let carry him around is Luka." I remarked. Suddenly, my phone rang in my back pocket. "Hold on–" I checked the screen. "Speak of the devil. This must be important, he knows you flew in tonight– this morning– whatever." I answered the call and raised the phone to my ear. "What's up, Lu? Everything ok?"

"Hey. Not exactly." He sounded exasperated.

"What happened?"

"Lila." Lila. One word, and I knew whatever Luka was on about wasn't good.

"Shit."

"Yep." He sighed. "I know that Isaac just got in though, so we can deal with it tomorrow. Just thought I'd give you a heads up."

"I– Hold on."

"M'kay." Luka hummed into the phone. I muted myself and turned to Isaac.

"Are you still up for doing something fun? Fun-ish? Ok, I have no idea how fun it'll be. I'm kinda in the dark in terms of the situation at hand."

"Always."

I unmuted myself and put the phone back up to my ear. "We'll be over in 5." I hung up before Luka could protest, which I knew he would. I looked at Isaac, who was looking at me, waiting for an explanation.

"So, what's the plan?"

"You're gonna meet Luka, I guess. But be warned, it sounds like we have a crisis on our hands."



(A/N: Aaaaand chapter eight! Might do these double chapter drops more often but who knows. As always, let me know your thoughts!)

~perfect for pictures~ (luka couffaine x reader)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora