We admitted that we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable.
Isabelle walked into Raphael's room, head held high. Her stride was composed, calculated. She had to keep it together. She had to look like she had it all together.
"Raphael," the guard called to get the clan leader's attention.
Raphael turned around to see the Shadowhunter walking toward him, heels clicking against the floor as she came closer. She exhaled deeply before the vampire came to meet her halfway.
"Isabelle," he said, surprised to see her. After their previous interaction, he wasn't sure that he would ever see her again, at least not for any kind of friendly visit.
Though happy to see her at first, after quickly scanning her, he grew concerned.
Her hair and makeup were both done meticulously. As per usual, she was well dressed. There was a smile on her face, but none of these things quite successful hid her flushed face or the bags under her eyes. To say the least, she didn't look so good.
"What are you doing here?" Raphael asked.
When the Shadowhunter spoke, her voice was breathy and her eyes were unfocused, compulsively scanning the room.
"I️ wanted to apologize," Isabelle breathed. "It was a terrible night and I️ took my anger out on you. You were only trying to save your people."
As she spoke, her arm shook vigorously, regardless of how hard she tried to keep it still. She only hoped that Raphael wouldn't notice, or maybe wouldn't care.
The vampire was silent for a moment, looking into Isabelle's eyes, her expression already possessing a pleading quality.
The silence was tense, but it didn't last long before Raphael broke it.
"It's not safe for a Shadowhunter to be at the DuMort right now," he warned, hoping to diffuse the situation before things got out of hand like they had in the past. "Especially not one looking for vampire venom."
As he began to turn away, Isabelle grabbed the robe he was wearing, causing him to stop in spite of her weak grip.
"Raphael, I️ think that if I️ can have a small bite, over time I️ can have less and less," she began, hands up in front of her face. Her hands were shaking violently, she was even worse off than before. He wasn't sure that he'd ever seen her quite so desperate, but addiction does that. He would know.
"It doesn't work like that," Raphael explained.
"Why not?" Isabelle asked.
She then smiled slightly, taking his hands in hers.
"We can manage it," she assured. "Together."
Her breaths were shallow and uneven, almost as if she were gasping for air.
Raphael shook his head.
"You really should go," he uttered.
When Raphael turned and began to walk away, Isabelle found herself growing even more desperate. She needed vampire venom. She needed Raphael to bite her.
"Wait. What do you want from me? I️-I'll I'll give you anything-" she began stuttering. She meant it. In that moment, she would've given anything for just one quick bite.
"I️ want you to leave," Raphael interrupted, turning back to face her. He was beginning to grow slightly frustrated at that point.
"I'm just asking for a little taste," Isabelle begged.
She then began to move in closer toward him, closing the gap of space that remained between them, creating more tension: creating temptation for Raphael. She figured if she couldn't convince the rational part of his brain then maybe she could make the bloodlust take over.
When she was close enough, Raphael had to turn his head away, hissing as he worked to fight his fangs from emerging and dropping into her flesh.
He could feel her shaky breaths on his cheek. He could heart her unsteady heartbeat, pumping the sweet smelling Shadowhunter blood through her veins.
"I️ know you want it," Isabelle whispered seductively.
Raphael breathed, clenching his jaw as he struggled to remain in control. She was right: he did want it, but he knew he couldn't. He knew that this needed to end.
The anticipation was radiating off of the other. At this point, her face was streaked with tears.
He exhaled once again.
"I'm not doing this, Isabelle," he said, unable to meet her gaze. Just the sight of her was too tempting at that point. He needed to look away.
At this point, the Shadowhunter shoved the vampire roughly, causing him to stumble backward.
"Seriously? This is how you treat me when I️ need you the most? I️ thought you cared about me Raphael, but I️ guess I️ was wrong!" Isabelle exclaimed.
"It's because I️ care!" Raphael shouted. He could see that she was only getting worse. The sweats and the shakes were both there. She appeared tired and sickly, and she was only falling deeper and deeper into her addiction.
"I️ shoulda never given you a taste," he added.
At this, Isabelle drew her seraph blade, aiming it Raphael's chest with a shaky hand.
Raphael simply shook his head in disappointment.
"Oh Isabelle," he said, expressing his own disbelief of how low she was willing to sink.
It was then that she actually realized what she was doing. She had grown so desperate for vampire venom that she had literally threatened to kill someone. That wasn't who she was, or at least, it wasn't who she wanted to be.
She loosened her grip, allowing the blade to slip from her fingers and fall to the floor below her with a crash.
She framed her face with her shaking hands, before tugging on her hair. She had never felt that level of shame in her entire life. Who was she? Who was she becoming? And, perhaps most importantly, how did she let this happen to her?
Quickly, she walked out of the room, ready to head back to the Institute.
In that moment, she knew. She couldn't do it. They couldn't manage it together. She couldn't manage it at all. She was powerless over vampire venom, and her life had become unmanageable.
