❝ there isn't a word to describe how much i hate you ❞
❝ would it help you find one if i hit you with a dictionary? ❞
✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ- a story in which two rivals are given an ultimatum in order to save their careers while simultaneously fighting for the...
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EVERYTHING WAS STILL. A numbness kept her frozen and her body bolted to the floor, her eyes locked on the grey wall across the room.
everything was melting. spinning. sliding. reality slipped out of her reach as her frustration and anger melted from her and evaporated into nothing until everything felt empty.
isabel leclerc wasn't sure how much time had passed. everything had faded out and, no matter how much she tried to grab it to pull it back, it slipped through her fingers like they were made of butter.
"belle," her nickname sounded so far away — was the door muffling it? or was it her brain — but the knocks reverberated against her back, bringing feeling back into her body, even if it was only temporary. "belle?" more knocking. "please."
her breathing quickened as the numbness disappeared, plunging her into scalding hot lava and leaving her there to drown. "charles," she gasped once she recognised the voice to be her brother's. "i—"
"the door is locked," he struggled with the handle. "i can't get in."
with a shaky hand, isabel reached up to unclip the lock before shuffling forward a little so that charles could open the door.
"shit," charles muttered as soon as he managed to weave through the tight gap that the door opened to. immediately, he sat down by his sister's side and placed his hands over hers. "come on," he whispered, "i am here now."
isabel shook her head wildly, shuttered breaths escaping her. "too hot," she gasped. "ca—can't breathe. please." but as much as she panicked, tears would not fall, "help."
immediately, charles reached to unzip her race suit, pulling her arms out of the sleeves in hopes that it would let the cooler air hit her skin a little more. he moved her arm to rest over his knee before pushing up the sleeve of her fireproofs until her wrist was exposed to the air. gently, he ran his index finger over the '17' tattooed on the exposed skin, tracing it as light as a feather would.
