I waited up all night to hear Van follow my brother up the stairs but he didn't come.
Not until the sun was rising slowly, pale and yellow and breaking through the cracks in the curtains in thin sickly rays. She looked underslept just like me.
I listened for his footsteps and when they came my heart skipped a beat. When they stopped outside my door my heart stopped all togeher.
I lay still, listening, holding my breath, waiting to hear his footsteps echo down the hallway or change their mind but they didn't do either. Not for a moment at least.
For a moment he hovered, hesitant outside my door. For a moment he left me wondering what exactly it was he was thinking about whilst he stood there. I wondered whether he could sense that I was still awake, I wondered whether he wanted to come in.
And then he did.
No light split through the darkness of my bedroom when he pushed gently on the door. He'd been standing alone in the dark. When my door opened he waited for a moment before pacing carefully, quietly across the room to the armchair which sat in the corner of my room beside a record player and a stack of books I'd get round to reading one day when I was fed up with Vladimir.
He sunk down into the chair softly and leant his head back against the wall, and when he did he let out a soft sigh.
But that was all.
He thought I was sleeping and he wasn't going to try and wake me.
I rolled over in my sleep so that I was facing him, my face concealed by my hair and my duvet, which I pulled up a little futher to hide my small smile as I watched him, resting his eyes just for a moment.
I thought about sitting up, about whispering his name. I thought about pretending to wake up.
But under the pale sunrise through my curtains I could just about make out his milky expression, his tired eyes. His troubled simmering glaze.
For a moment i wondered whether he knew who's room he was in.
And then I did, know that is.
"Isabelle..." he hummed, eyes still shut, "come here love," he said, his voice low and lethargic. He sounded tired, a little on edge. I bit my lip, blinked back at him in the dark. Wondered whether or not he'd seen me watching him before he'd closed those tired eyes.
I remained still for a moment, hesitant. I knew I should have been sleeping, I didn't want to sit up too soon and wind up in some sort of trouble but when he let out a soft chuckle I relaxed.
"I know you're awake Belle," he said, that edge in his voice grating a little, only a little but it was enough for me to work out his impatience. "Come on darlin, sit with me awhile,"
I could tell from the tone in his voice that he wasn't really asking, but I didnt mind. I bit back a small smile as I pushed myself up, let the covers slip from my shoulder slow and sleepy like the rest of me.
I was tired, so tired that my body ached with it. So tired that when I slipped from my bed, standing alone before him in nothing but a tshirt, my legs shook a little. All of me yearned for rest, but all of me yearned for him too.
So i trod quietly, lightly and moved towards him. He leant back in his chair and rested his temple on his fist, and when he looked up at me his hair fell across his face. His lips wore a quiet smile.
In the low light of the morning his eyes were icy blue but they caught the light as they flickered over my body and drew a blush on my cheeks. They were warm. Warm with morning rays which would keep us both sleepless now.
"Sit," he said opening his legs, holding one hand out for me to take.
For a moment I was hesitant, sort of shy. His gaze still lingered. It lingered on my bare legs, on my hips which caught my baggy tshirt and stuck out like little cliffs. It lingered on my jaw and the curve of my lips. It lingered on all of me all at once and suddenly I was self concious.
Because he was the most powerful man in manchester, and he was looking at me like I was all his.
"Izzy darlin please don't make me wait," he murmured his hand on my lower back, guiding me in towards him. I was standing between his legs, looking down at him and yet still he was the one in control. He was the king in his throne and in that moment i was his. All his.
His hand stroked my spine as he rubbed my back and pulled me in and when I gripped the back of the chair for balance, climbed up into his lap and settled down with him, i felt his smile against my cheek when he spoke.
He let out a soft sigh and leant his forhead to my temple, his words spoken quietly in my ear sending a shiver down my spine.
"My little angel," he said ever so quietly. I wondered whether he knew he had said it at all.
He wrapped his arm around me and hugged me close to him, scattering little kisses through my hair and over my cheek. He pressed one to my temple, breathed out through his nose and closed his eyes again, holding himself there. His lips pressed to my skin.
We were quiet and we were still and for a moment he fooled me into thinking he had found a little peace.
But when I moved to get comfortable he didn't move with me, he didn't relax or settle down. The tesion in his jaw didn't release.
"Van," i whispered, my breath tickling the skin on his neck as I pressed a kiss just below his jaw, "Don't you want to sleep?" i asked, surprising him, leaving a bewildered little quirk on his lips. He shook his head slowly, his hand caressing my waist, slipping up under my tshirt but never straying too high.
"No darlin," he breathed, "not tonight," he said and when I frowned and asked him why he sat up a little straighter and looked down at me, "because," he said running his finger tip along my jaw to push a strand of hair behind my ear. "Ive too many things to do..."
"Then why are you here?" i smirked only feeling silly when he smirked too, leant down to kiss my forehead, holding the back of my head, brushing his thrumb through my hair.
"Because little darlin," he said leaning back, looking me up and down again with a look of satisfaction glowing in his eyes, "sitting here with you, like this, is one of the things I need to do," he said the corner of his smile twitching a smirk at the way he held me speechless and caught out. Blushing again. Unable to hold his gaze again.
He held my cheek in the palm of his hand.
"Little darlin," he breathed and I shied a look up into his sad eyes. They were warm and pooling and simmering with a sorrow which surprised me.
"You look sad Van," i said, surprising him. Not realising the impact of my words. Not realising that I was the first person to recognise sorrow laced in his expression for a very long time.
He swallowed a lump in his throat, jaw suddenly slack. Suddenly shocked. He sat frozen and suddenly I felt a little nervous, as if I was about to do something I wasn't so sure I should.
I raised my hand to the scar and the bruise on his neck which still lingered, traced the line of the healing scar left by Billy Reids blade.
I traced the line and felt his pulse beneath my fingertip, i felt it falter beneath my touch as he closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.
Suddenly he was the one with the shiver down his spine.
When he opened his eyes he was fixated by me, blinking back at me, eyes pooling, deeo blue and swirling, honest. Not quite vulnerable but almost.
"Isabelle," he breathed, his thumb brushing my cheek gently, his long lashes fluttering as he blinked up at me. He let out another sigh and murmured my name again. "Isabelle my darlin," he said taking my hand in his, playing with my fingers, drawing a slow circle in the palm of my hand. I watched his fingertip trace my life line and he watched too. "Babygirl," his voice was a low hum, grit and honey, like he was struggling to get the words out, though every one which fell from his lips was warm.
I opened my mouth to speak again but he stopped me, raised his finger to my lips and pressed gently.
"Shh," his voice was gentle, sighing. Still sad. Still troubled.
In that moment all I wanted was to sooth whatever it was that was aching him. Whatever it was that he couldn't tell me.
"Isabelle mlove," he said, his voice slow and sleepy, "whenever my world starts crumbling around me, and I feel like I'm losing control," he said, running his finger around the palm of my hand. The motion held me hypnotised, captivated. "I look at you," and then he looked up. He looked up at me from under his thick black lashes, more honest than he'd been for years.
I looked back, lips slightly parted, a little surprised, a little touched.
"I look at you and I remind myself why I do the things I do, I remind myself whats at stake, whats most important to me in this world..."
It was one of those moments again, one of those moments where it was just us, the only two people in the world, and the intensity between us stirred something in me. Settled me and unsettled me all at once.
I held his gaze because I couldn't look away. I needed his gaze, I needed his eyes locked with mine.
And he needed me too.
I reached to press my hand to his chest, to feel his heart beat against the palm of my hand but he caught my wrist. He caught my wrist and he held me there, still, his eyes dark with desperation. His sudden move had surprised us both.
"Isabelle, little darlin, thats what I'm doing now," he said, his lips curving the softest hint of a smile, the subtlest of smiles. Almost hidden even from me, but i saw it, and i treasured it, and I mirrored it.
I was stunned. Speechless. Silent.
And when I tried to speak I stuttered and he smirked and raised his finger to my lips once again.
"Shhh," he said again, "don't speak," he said, eyes still locked with mine, still warm. Still pooling, still dark.
"Van.." i said it anyway, spoke despite his finger pressed to my lips. Drew a little smile on his lips that encouraged me to ask. "Van will you... Can I..."i felt a blush burning my cheeks. "Kiss me again?" I asked, heart stuttering just as my voice did.
I was desperate see. Desperate to eternalise the moment we were locked in. Desperate to seal it, lock my lips with his lips and prove it. Prove that he was mine and I was his. Prove that I was always his and always would be.
But Van just shook his head. He shook his head and dissapointed me, and though I tried to hide it it was impossible. I wore my dissapointment like a bruise and when he saw it he smiled softly, brushed his thumb over my bottom lip and pulled me in a little closer. He placed a gentle kiss to my forehead and let his lips linger above my brow.
"Not tonight darlin," he breathed, "enough now," he said, his fingertips skimming my cheek. He held me close, like i was the most precious thing on the planet. Like I really was the heavensent angel he professed me to be. "Be still," he hummed, "be still," he said.
And then we were.
Still.
He pressed his forehead to mine, rested there only for a moment before he changed his mind, lips brushing the tip of my nose and then my temple. He cupped my cheek with his hand then changed his mind. Stroking my hair, caressing my cheek. His fingertips tracing the line of my jaw. He didn't know what to do with himself. I didn't know what to do with myself.
My breaths shook a little. My heart fluttered.
Van placed a kiss on my center parting and hummed into my hair.
"Close your eyes darlin," he murmured, "close your eyes and relax sweetheart," he said kissing my temple again.
I gazed back at him, traced the sharp of his cheekbones down to the corner of his mouth and shifted where I sat in his lap to stretch up to him. To place a soft kiss on his lips.
Mine barely brushed his but it was enough to shiver him. Enough to take his breath for just a moment.
His eyes locked with mine. His chest rose and fell slow and steady.
In that moment he was gentle and I was tender.
"Only if you will too,"