The Aristocrat

They call it past and present

Friday 23rd.

He hadn't changed in the slightest. Just looking at him made me feel like I was 15 and lost all over again.

His eyes were still the smoothest shade of heart-breaking green and his near black hair was tugged back in the same style he'd always had. Every bit was the same. Even the grey jumper on his body and jeans seemed familiar to me.

His mouth rounded when he saw me, his eyes stuck on me like glue.

"Isaac," I whispered his name across the echoing kitchen. Closing his mouth partly, he didn't even attempt to hide the shock he felt from seeing me.

"Andra," He said back and took a step further into the room. I stayed put on the other side opposite him, needing the space between us to reassure me.

"I didn't know you were back," I lied. I knew. I'd also been aware that this was inevitable, the run in. London was a big place, but smaller than you'd think when you're forced to run in the same circles.

"Ivy never told you?" He asked unbelieving.

I shook my head and sucked in my lips, "never mentioned it."

Isaac nodded his head and stared around at the kitchen space hesitantly. It was awkward. Neither of us could pitch together another conversation that would make this feel normal or comfortable.

And it was unbearable; the weirdness that surrounded us. I hated it. It killed me to realise that this was us now; two strangers.

"How long you back for?" I asked, not able to live through another minute of silence between me and him.

"I'm not actually sure just yet," he frowned and his shoulders lifted in a shrug. He took another step closer "Things weren't going to plan in school and I thought I'd take study leave for a while, come back home."

"What didn't go to plan?" I asked not sure if I was prying too much. But I couldn't help myself. It was the first time I'd seen him in over half a year and I wanted to know he was alright.

"Melbourne isn't exactly like home. Settling in is harder than you'd thought," He explained.

I scoffed loudly, "Yeah ok. The day Isaac Whitely doesn't fit is the day Ivy admits to dying her hair every two weeks."

Isaac couldn't stifle the smile that washed over his lips and he chuckled, "Ok. Maybe I fit in fine."

The awkwardness was easing away and with it my apprehension about him. This wasn't a stranger, I reminded myself, it was Isaac.

"I can bet," I smiled back not being able to help it "you always have."

Isaac shrugged his shoulders, the content smile playing on his lips.

"How have you been?" He asked me genuinely.

"Good I guess," I shrugged not having much to fill in for him "everything's good."

Isaac stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to say more. When I didn't he nodded and smiled a little wider, "that's good. I'm glad your good."

"Good," I nodded and mentally slapped myself. That's all I could say; good.

Isaac said nothing else, only a step closer to me. His closeness freaked me out, I didn't know how to handle it. His normal scent washed over my senses and I wondered how easy it was for me to recognise all the things about him that were the same as when I last saw him. 

I noticed a small cut scar by his jawline and wondered how he'd got it.

"Why did you really come back?" I asked my voice hoarse.