Wild Hearts

Can't Let Go

I sit enveloped by warm blankets, the chattering gone from my teeth, but the hollowness still behind the eyes.

The white-grey sunlight drifts in on dust particles, revealing Isaac's office in a rather complimentary light. What I mean to say is, it doesn't look so damn intimidating anymore.

Not least of all because I'm not sitting opposite Isaac. Far from it actually. The warm-faced stranger with the all-too-perfect smile is Connor, the one who really owns this place. Connor is...

If Isaac is a speeding train, leaving destruction in his wake, Connor is the sun's warm touch, a summer breeze that doesn't overstay its welcome. He isn't condescending, or brash. He found the blankets for me, made small talk to keep me distracted, and he told me a bit about himself when I refused to share.

He has chestnut hair, though it's soft and trim, unlike Isaac's wild spikes. His eyes are turquoise pools, and I have to be careful not to get lost in them. They're really pretty.

Connor is a Pisces, whatever that meant. He lives for latte and long walks on the beach, "sometimes both at the same time", and the sound of other people brushing their teeth sets the hair on the back of his neck tingling. His parents are stupid rich—his words, not mine, and he is expected to inherit the family business, though he doesn't want it, and so has been making questionable, bold decisions because he's young and freaking scared like the rest of us. One of those being investing in Isaac's dream here and turning what should have been a respectable business space into "purgatory for freaks." Again, his words, not mine.

"My real passion," he explains, life sparkling in his eyes now. Just like David, he knows what to say and when to say it. He keeps me from lulling or slipping too far. "I love, love fashion. The whole designer clothes and catwalk thing. I want to be a designer myself one day, but..." he crosses his fingers, eyes to the sky. "god forbid, dad leaves me alone and lets me have free reign."

Sharing time is soon over when it's clear I won't speak, but he has done something at least. I genuinely was interested in what he had to say, and I think I became more fascinated with what some rich young guy was doing hanging around with a rogue nation like Isaac. There must be something deeper between them. He signed away this place to an absolute stranger, after all. Uh, and I have to believe it's not as cynical as Corin made it out to be. Like, they love each other. If you can even love a force of nature like Isaac.

Now he just smiles and watches me. Watches me when he thinks I'm not looking, but I am. Every time I glance up, he makes a poor display of quickly glancing elsewhere.

"I'm real sorry," Connor murmurs, startling me as the dust dances. I like his voice. It's slightly deep, yet it rolls over me like a stream over pebbles. "about Isaac. He's..." His eyes do a full rotation, and he chuffs, resting his chin on his palm.

I frown at him, a probing one that's intended purpose is to burn. He sits up, inhaling a sharp breath.

"No, you're right. He was a douche. What he did was not on. He was intoxicated that night, and... Well, he's not going to apologise for being who he is, but be sure he doesn't usually come onto kids. He might not have the best judgement, but even he has his limits.

"That doesn't excuse him. I've already had a long talk with him. Expect a proper apology when he gets back. Shit, I mean... He wants to apologise. I completely understand if you want to ditch this place for good. He'll accept your decision."

"He wants to talk with me?"

Isaac has been in many nightmares since that night. But I never saw him as a real threat. I knew he lingered in Hell and my only chance at another encounter was entering into his domain. The only thing keeping me tied to Hell is Corin. But he wants my forgiveness?