1.1 | Lost & Found

vii. isaac

I N D I G O

Before alcohol became a bigger part of her life than me, or life itself, mom used to say that beauty came from within. She said that some people's souls shine so bright that one couldn't help but turn and stare at their brilliance as they passed by. She told me that those are the people you must keep close to your heart no matter what turn the bumpy roads of life took. She told me to keep them close within the folds of my heart, the way one would preserve an exotic wildflower in the pages of a book.

Obviously, my little four-year-old self didn't understand the depth of her words, but currently, as I stand at the window of the room Dakota has taken me to, the words hit me like a truck slamming into me head-on. Like a giant tidal wave, that even Poseidon might have difficulty controlling.

Mom had continued on to say that the people who had kindness in their smiles and the light in their eyes shone brighter than a thousand splendid suns. I had met everybody except Isaac. they said he worked as a private investigator under the police and he usually came home early on in the evenings. As I looked through the windows of my new room at my siblings waiting for the arrival of Isaac, I couldn't help but notice the eager excitement glistening in their eyes or the easy laughs they shared. Just the thought of having a real family sent shivers from my nose to my toes. This time it was my heart that answered, instead of my mind, a steady drumbeat yes inside my chest.

Yes,

  Yes,

  Yes!

The dull roar of a black car curbed its way into the front of the porch.

A rather tall figure stepped out dressed smartly in a beige trench coat and silver frames covering his grey eyes, the perfect sherlock look. So this was Isaac. Olivia had warned me that he was rather quiet and intimidating, but then and again she didn't know that where others saw love, I saw mistrust.

Trust.

A beautiful thing, yet one so deadly.

It's actually kind of ironic when you look at it this way...ever since we've taken our first steps, be it our parents, teachers, or elders, they've all taught us to welcome the world with open arms and a smile on our faces.

But I can't do it.

Because very few people know that with every beam of light comes a shadow. With every smile comes a tear. With everything sweet comes something sour.

And I had to learn it the sour way.

"Blue!" Dakota yells snapping me out of my stupor. Ever since we've met, he's insisted on calling me 'blue' because my name is Indigo, and for some unexplainable reason, he thinks my "vibe' is more towards blue than purple." His words, not mine.

I run down the flight of steps, taking two at a time. I slowly walk up to where Ezra and the others are standing. The minute Isaac sees me, he stands so still. I awkwardly wave to him and I look at Dakota who has an arm around my shoulder, and he can't stop smiling.

"Is that-" Isaac begins,

"Yeah, it is." Dakota cuts him off, swaying back on the balls of his feet.

"Oh my god," Isaac breathes out.

There is a moment of pure silence. And it speaks volumes.

I sneak a glance at Isaac.

Isaac Clarkson is quite the enigma. His dark blue oceanic eyes, more blue than grey like the rest of my siblings, seem to have no end. One could drown in those depths. One had to fight to stay afloat in those depths. Something was uncannily familiar about the look in his eyes.

"Indigo."

One word.

Three syllables.

His tone is soft like smooth curves of clay vases, lilting to the rhythm of the potterer's sculpting hands, the way a sunflower melts into the sky at the honeyed sight of the Sun. His face is calm, almost stone-cold, emotionless...but there's also a melancholic tilt to his smile and that dulled sparkle in his eyes that tells that even through the darkness, he hopes.

He hopes against hope.

And I learned a long time ago, that these kinds of people are rare.

Isaac believes.

And that in itself is a powerful thing.

One that my mind will unfortunately not let me do myself. Because so far it has kept me safe. But I think it's only my heart that realizes it's suffocating me slowly.

Before he's arrived, Dakota told me not to get put off by Isaac's silence or intimidated by his piercing stare or utter silence and lack of words. But Dakota didn't know that I embraced silence with open arms.

It's like I said before. I am different in ways deeper than anyone will understand.

Where others see an impenetrable silence, I see a calming expanse.

Where others see shadows as a dark looming void, I see them as a place where the cruel glare of the Sun cannot reach you. A place where your scars are not on display.

Something tells me, for reasons unknown, that Isaac knows the ways of silence, the way I do. People like us treasure silence like an old man reminiscing a wild youth. It's a gut feeling that I dismiss immediately.

He hugs Dakota and presses a gentle kiss on Olivia's forehead. He nods at Ezra and Blake.

And then he awards me with a ghost of a smile.

That same feeling I had earlier with Ezra in the restaurant has now bloomed again just below my heart. It's like a butterfly has been trapped in the bony container of my rib cage, sending tingles down my spine. Something reminded me once again that Isaac's smiles were rare. Maybe it was the look of shock on Dakota's face or the sad melancholic smile on Ezra's.

Maybe it was the gentle humming of my heart, beating in agreement with my mind. My mind has never aligned with my heart. My body has always been a Warfield, so this feeling is bizarre.

Yes,

Yes,

Yes!

My heart sings in agreement.

So unlike ever before, I embrace this feeling.

Because a small insignificant part of my mind tells me that his smile looks a lot like my own: The smile of a broken, lost individual, still finding his footing, a smile full of all the sadness in the world.

The wind blows a little harder, the trees sway a little more violently, and the leaves creak a little more wildly.

And so we head inside.

* * *