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･*･.｡☾｡.･*･
Isabella's hair moved back and forth in the breeze, revealing and hiding the amber of her eyes as she glanced around in confusion with furrowed eyebrows. She recalled entering the warehouse and the expression of rage on Klaus' face after pushing her up against the wall before her world went dark.
A few moments passed when a smile curved on her lips in recognition as a sense of surrealism waved over her, familiarity and security coming over her immediately. With narrow, cobblestoned streets and breathtaking views around every corner, it truly appeared like a town out of a storybook village. Minuscule and compact from the waterfront and wandering paths lead uphill through the city streets. Isabella could gaze down this wonderful street and its collection of colorful boutiques and restaurants while getting the perfect views over the rooftops of this town.
Isabella was in one of the most beautiful and romantic places where she would visit partly every summer of her childhood—Bellagio, Lake Como, Italy. The cobblestone street was quiet without a single person in sight, leaving Isabella to occupy the sleepy town all to herself. This village was a portion of paradise for her, even if she was born in Tuscany—it was a part of her Italian heritage. Bellagio was the ideal mix of photogenic streets and gorgeous views of the Pearl of Lake Como.
The chances of this being reality was zero even when it felt real. Isabella had thought herself being wide awake at the moment when she, in fact, wasn't. This was a detailed, prolonged, imaginary dream realm of sorts created by her subconscious, a place between sleep and reality where she could remember dreaming just as she would awaken. This was a conflict between the body and the soul.
"I must say, Bellagio does have quite a quaint and fascinating taste I admire, which has been charming travelers for centuries such as myself," a voice presented with elegance spoke up from behind Isabella.
Isabella whirled around to see Elijah, giving him a dazzling grin spreading wide on her lips as she stared intently at him in bewilderment. "Elijah?" She breathed.
"Hello, my dear Isabella," Elijah greeted, a tiny smile lifting upon the corners of his mouth. He stepped down the wide, cobblestone stairs to stand a step below her. "I presume you have some questions for me," he inferred, as he adjusted the cuffs on his suit jacket.
"You could say so," Isabella conceded, nodding her head as she gazed at him in a hypnotic state. She couldn't begin to fathom what was currently happening, or how Elijah was even here with her, although she was pondering it. Her eyes flashed around at the glamorous promenade once more, before gazing back at Elijah again with a solemn expression. "This isn't real," she observed as she shook her head once she realized the expression Elijah gave her.
