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 I whisper truce as the ashes hit the ground, Isolde/Sara <33
Hailey · 17 · 7th · Undecided · Half-Blood · 6'0"
Awards: 13

Mar 10 2018, 08:30 PM   Link Quote
Often times, Nikolai did things he would soon regret. He’d forget his shoes during the winter then refuse to return to the dorms to retrieve them, or he’d convince himself he knew a subject well enough to not have to focus on it longer. Frequently, the snake would return to the back of his mind, replaying the events of the day to determine what he could’ve changed that would’ve made life easier for him. He’d fall back into his days of being ten years old, wondering if maybe he’d held on a little tighter, stayed home from work that day, or perhaps run a little faster, he’d still be in Russia with his father by his side.

Throat tightening, Nick’s fingers stiffened against the two ceramic mugs in his hands. The Slytherin had planned on surprising Petra with the drinks he snatched from the kitchen as a way of thanking her for the support after his Valentine’s date with Artemisia, but the thought vanished from his mind the moment he stepped into the dungeon. Hickory eyes drifted towards the corner of the common room, trained to distinguish the familiar head of dark curls after so many years of pining after her. Guilt feasted on his bravery, devouring his fight and leaving him solely with the instinct to flee at the sight of Isolde. With the notion that Mara would be just as pleased with a visit from him, Nick turned on his heels to visit the Hufflepuff, but his heart begged him for one more glance, one more chance to memorize the curve of her soft lips, the ocean in her eyes, even if it meant facing the dangers that lurk beneath the surface. And Nick wasn’t in the mood to attempt to deny his heart.

He peered over his shoulder to focus his attention on Isolde Grimm. Pulse quickening, the Russian noted the twist at the corners of her mouth, her tense posture, and pursed his lips. He knew the look all too well – he’d seen it in the mirror countless times. Death was an old friend of Nikolai’s, stealing away his mother moments after he entered the world then tearing his father from his grasp a decade later. Death and Nick used to stroll the streets of Piter together: the former would visit the latter’s neighbors while the young boy attempted to avoid him at every turn. So, the snake shifted his eyes to the mugs in his hand and back to the grief-stricken girl with a sigh of resignation.

Striding past his other housemates in the common room, Nick set down the coffee and hot chocolate on the table in front of her before pulling up a chair of his own, “Hey,” he muttered softly, testing the waters. He knew Isolde probably hated him, probably wanted nothing to do with him – but even if the German girl murdered him that night, at least he got to spend his final moments with her. With a sheepish glance down at the two mugs, he twisted his signet ring around his finger, “I’ve only got an extra hot chocolate, but if you’d prefer coffee you can have mine.” He spoke quietly, embarrassed that he even considered she’d willingly be in the same room as him, let alone hold a conversation with him; however, the Slytherin boy had seen her love for her parents and understood just how wrong it was to deprive a child of their mother and father. He wanted nothing more than to fall back into his habit and wrap his hand around her own, or pull her close. Nikolai missed her desperately, there was no debate about it. His heart ached at the sight of her and sometimes his lungs rejected oxygen, desiring instead to drown in the salt water of her eyes. So yes, Nick lived a life full of regrets, but Isolde Grimm was never one of them.

@Isolde Grimm

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