[ON HOLD]
'love?' when you live as long as I have, 'love' is a surprisingly rare occurrence, something that many would have given up on. Yet, as I looked into the eyes of the man in front of me - his innocent blue eyes filled with hope of what life...
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Isabella, look at me.
Alexander's Cottage – Snowy Night
The night was a silent world of white, the snow falling in heavy, cold sheets that muffled even the sound of Isabella's footsteps. The frozen forest seemed endless, a sea of skeletal branches clawing at the sky. Her breath came in ragged clouds, fogging the air as she made her way through the swirling storm toward the faint glow of Alexander's cottage.
The small house stood like a lone sentinel, warm light flickering from the windows, a fragile hearth against the overwhelming cold outside. Snow clung to her cloak and tangled hair, wetting her sleeves and chilling her bones. Her face was raw—eyes red and swollen from unshed tears, cheeks streaked with salt tracks where sorrow had carved silent rivers.
She raised her trembling hand and knocked softly. The door creaked open almost immediately.
Alexander stood framed in the doorway, his expression instantly softening as he took in the sight of her. Her vulnerability was laid bare—no pretense, no armor—just a broken woman trembling in the snow.
"Isabella..." His voice was low, threaded with concern and something tender that made her heart ache.
She stumbled inside, the warmth flooding her like a balm, but it did nothing to stop the ache gnawing in her chest. She sank into a worn armchair by the fire, her fingers gripping the rough fabric of her cloak, knuckles white with tension.
Her voice was cracked, a fragile whisper torn from the depths of her despair. "I fought with Klaus tonight."
Alexander's brow knit tightly. "Your brother?"
She nodded, swallowing hard against the lump lodged deep in her throat. "He... he said terrible things. That I'm just like her... our mother. That I'm weak. That I'm cursed. That I've lost everything because I chose this—because I love you."
Her hands trembled violently, and she pressed them to her face, trying to hide the flood of tears she could no longer hold back. The first sob broke free, raw and wrenching, echoing softly in the quiet room. Then another. And another.
Alexander rose swiftly, crossing the space between them in two long strides. He knelt before her, gathering her shaking hands in his steady ones, his gaze unwavering.
"Isabella, look at me," he said softly, his voice a tether pulling her back from the edge.
She lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes burning with a storm of emotions—pain, fear, shame, but above all, a desperate longing for something to hold onto.
"I don't care what Klaus or anyone else says. I know you. I see you," Alexander whispered, his thumb brushing away a fresh tear. "I know how fiercely you love. How much strength it takes to choose love in a world that hates us for it."
Her breath hitched, voice breaking. "I'm supposed to belong to that family, to that cursed legacy. But all I feel... all I want... is you. More than blood, more than duty, more than the magic I've lost, more than anything. I would give it all—leave it all behind—if it meant I could be with you."
Her confession hung between them, fragile and raw, the weight of it almost unbearable.
Alexander's eyes darkened with unwavering certainty. "I believe you, Isabella. And I would burn the world down to keep you safe. You are more than your family, more than your past. You are the only future I want."
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame. Her tears soaked into his shirt as she buried her face in his chest, letting the sobs shake her body free of the fear and heartbreak that had nearly consumed her.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, a cold and indifferent witness to a love fierce enough to defy blood, curses, and the night itself.
