Invisible Strings

Chapter 4: Rare Artifacts

"What?" Hannah questioned. Curious about how Isadora was taking her response to her question.

Isadora kept her eyes on the road, but her smirk softened into something gentler. "Nothing bad," she said after a beat. "Just... I think you've got more to say than you let yourself believe."

Hannah blinked, her chest tightening in that way it always did when someone tried to hand her worth she didn't feel she deserved. She shifted, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "Or maybe I just... don't want to take up too much space."

Isadora's fingers tightened briefly on the steering wheel. "You're allowed to take up space, Hannah." Her voice was steady, not scolding, but sure. "Your words, your music, you. All of it."

Hannah looked at her quickly, startled by the certainty in her tone. But Isadora's gaze was still forward, calm, like she'd just stated a fact instead of a revelation.

For a while, Hannah didn't say anything. The hum of the car, the steady rhythm of tires against the road, filled the silence. But then, almost too quietly to be heard...

"...Thank you."

The rest of the drive passed in a kind of comfortable hush. By the time they reached town, the streets were dotted with people carrying bags, weekend chatter spilling from open shop doors. Isadora parked along the curb and slid her keys into her pocket.

"First stop, stationery," she said, pulling open her door. "I'm running out of red pens."

Hannah trailed after her, hugging her arms lightly to herself as they stepped inside the little shop. Bells chimed overhead. Isadora moved easily through the aisles, tossing notebooks and ink refills into a basket. Hannah followed, her gaze flicking over the shelves, touching the spines of journals but never picking one up.

"You like these?" Isadora asked, nodding toward the shelf of sketchbooks.

Hannah startled slightly. "They're... nice."

"Mm. I think you'd fill one up faster than you think." Isadora said it casually, but Hannah's throat tightened at the thought. She stayed quiet, though, letting the words sit.

The next stop was a small apothecary-like shop, warm with herbs and amber glass jars. Isadora grabbed a few things: teas, some kind of balm, and a quill she didn't really need. Chatting with the owner like an old friend. Even though she was new to the town and an outcast herself. She didn't care about strangers' approvals, making Hannah observe that small factor about her. Hannah hung back near the door, watching the way Isadora's laugh seemed to light the space, how easily people leaned toward her.

When they stepped back into the brisk air, Hannah murmured, almost to herself, "People like you."

Isadora glanced sideways, amused but curious. "And you sound surprised by that."

Hannah blushed faintly, tucking her chin. "I'm... not surprised. Just... noticing."

Isadora didn't push. She only smiled and nodded toward the street ahead. "One more stop. Coffee. Non-negotiable."

The café was buzzing when they walked in. Laughter spilling from tables, the hiss of the espresso machine, the sharp clatter of mugs being stacked behind the counter. Hannah faltered just inside the doorway, her shoulders hunching like she wanted to shrink into the floor.

Isadora noticed instantly. She leaned down, her voice pitched low just for Hannah. "Corner table. Less noise." She nodded toward a small booth tucked away at the far side, half-hidden by a row of hanging plants.

Relief flickered across Hannah's face, so subtle most people wouldn't have seen it. But Isadora did.

They slid into the booth, Hannah pressing herself close to the wall while Isadora sprawled comfortably opposite, draping one arm over the backrest like she had all the time in the world.