Isla's Poison

Chapter 1 I guess

       Isla nervously swirled her whiskey; her icy blue eyes scanned the Rowdy Raven. Her anxieties climbed up her throat. What if he never forgave her? What if he was still in South Chestin? What if he'd never come back to Mercy. 

To her. 

No. 

She couldn't let herself think that way. He had promised in his letters. He was going to be here. She was going to see him.  She tugged on her braid nervously, I hope he's ok... She tried not to let her excitement get the best of her logical judgment. It has been two years, two years since she'd seen him, and waiting wasn't making it any easier.

 She surveyed the small tavern; it didn't look like much. It was a small dimly lit room with ugly wooden tables crammed together. Several men gathered around some tables discussing their latest conquest with language that would make their grandmothers turn in their graves. Isla smiled slightly remembering the times her Master had cursed so when he was making swords. She missed the village she grown up in, but they were never welcome again. Not after all the stunts she had pulled. It still troubled her that the village could not accept magic, but she assumed they feared it. Like the many she had encountered, trying to find a place to settle down. A collective bello of laughter brought Isla back to the present and she scanned the room for her guest again. A large fireplace roared in the corner heating up the mid-winter air. A couple of men eyed her with interest, but she tucked herself tighter into her leather coat. Isla shook herself. He wasn't coming. He'd given up. Icy hot realization struck her heart. 

She may never see him again. 

 At last a large lanky figure burst through the door. It shook itself from the rain and slid off its large cloak. There was a boy was underneath all that leather, his curly hair wet from the rain. He noticed the disturbance he had caused and casually sidled over to Isla.  Isla couldn't believe it. Her excitement got the best of her and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his stocky frame. She rested there for a split second, allowing herself, just for a moment, to be totally still. Then she let go, embarrassed of how long she had embraced him and the men from the other side of the bar began to stare.

"Woah!" Milo exclaimed almost falling over, "Isla!" 

He scooped her up from where she stood and spun her in a circle his laughing warm brown eyes never leaving hers. 

"You." 

She grinned for what felt like the first time in a while. Finally she was safe. He was safe. They were together. They once again noticed that the town gossips were staring at them and Milo awkwardly set her down and they sheepishly made a beeline for the pub. 

"You're late," she grinned, sliding him his favorite whiskey drink. Part of her was afraid of him. Two years could really change a person and Isla wasn't sure she was ready, but seeing Milo's eyes light up as he threw back stilled her fear. The boy's light hazel eyes looked golden as he smiled, taking her in. He knew many things were different, some things the same. He chuckled inwardly as he spotted her favorite whiskey by her elbow. Somethings never changed. Isla sure had though. She was taller than he remembered her being. Her hair was long and wavy, dark ribbons cascading over her shoulders and hanging in curls at the small of her back. She looked older, more weathered than when he had seen her last. Her smile was as enchanting as the moment they had met. He grinned as he rolled up his sleeves revealing his dark toned skin and intricate tattoos. He waved to the bar tender, then turned his attention on Isla.  

"I'm sorry," his Scottish accent warmed her like a cup of hot coffee, "I should have left later but Nightingale spooked from the lighting." She didn't realize how much she missed him. It has been at least a year since the two had been together in one room. The pair had split, Milo heading west, Isla heading south. Although the split was painful and shoved a wedge between them, she also missed him more than she would like to admit.