isolt marcello

I'm more alive than I've ever been

It had been so terribly long a time since last she and her childhood companion had been able to do this, something as simplistic and inherently lighthearted as attending a music festival in the city. When was the last time that the two women had been offered the opportunity merely to speak to one another about something as overly frivolous as heated leather seats? All of their childhoods, adolescences, and during the first years of their respective adulthoods Isolt and Harley had been nearly inseparable, two sides of a single coin... and then life, with all of it's myriad complications and circumstances, had dealt them each in turn a series of devastating blows that had pulled at the tapestry of their lives together and set it to fraying. For a time they had been lost to one another...

Perhaps now they could, each of them, find their way back.

Isolt found herself helpless against the chuckle that forced itself loose as her raven-haired companion wiggled as some elated child, settling herself into the heated leather cradle of the bucket seat. "I'm glad someone is getting use out of that, it's completely wasted on me and Damon."

At her friend's query, Isolt's head shakes as a giggle tickles at her throat; Harley was, indeed, hopeless when it came to the opportunity to loose one of her quirky jabs into any conversation. The redheaded vampire's azure eyes flick to her companion momentarily. "That I wouldn't know, Damon and I met before I was turned." Turned. What a peculiar choice of phrase that all of the supernatural community had almost unanimously elected to use when referring to their respective transformations... however prolific they may have been. It was a luxurious and smooth honey coating on a barbed and jagged pill, easier to swallow and yet no less gruesome and, ultimately, still capable of savaging even the most resolute of them. And yet Isolt found such turn of phrase was surely better than 'before I died', for the acknowledgment of her own death in the presence of a warm-blooded individual (even someone she cared for and trusted as much as she did Harley) seemed a conversational taboo.

"And I don't know if I believe in love at first sight, but there was definitely intrigue... maybe even a little lust at first sight," she adds with a sidelong glance towards her compatriot before continuing with her tale. "He was a tall, dark, and handsome stranger and I was... interested. I was sure I wasn't ever going to see him again, we didn't even exchange numbers. I was too chicken to ask." Isolt offers a moment of pause, crystalline blue eyes set upon the road ahead illuminated in the stark halos of light cast by the BMW's headlamps. Her tone softens when finally she continues. "But one night, when I snuck out of Syn, he came across me on the street about to get myself into a heap of trouble and... he saved me. The rest is history." And Damon had, truly, been saving her ever since that fateful eve. In every possible way.

"Now it's your turn- who's the guy?" A sly, impish grin spreads itself against Isolt's features before she turns her head to glance upon the raven-haired woman beside her, a single expertly-manicured brow pitched in question. "Don't look so surprised, I can smell him on you. Do tell."