Angel Tongue

septendecim

Isaac's emotions raged stronger than ever when he pulled the heavy bronze knocker up before bringing it down onto the wood. Once. Twice. Thrice. There was no immediate response, no telltale stirring from behind the double doors. Isaac though, kept his hand to his side, remembering his father's almost-constant reminders when he was a child to knock three times and wait.

"Do yo want to go again?" Sierra shuffled behind him. Isaac looked at her, standing beside Pax as she uneasily looked at the house that was laid out in front of them.

"They're coming," he reassured her, taking the chance to look at the house as well, breathing in the plateresque facade that encased the space that he had considered home for the past eighteen years of his life. It brought a feeling to him, one as understandable as it was unexplainable, like a curtain of warmth that coated him, from the ends of his hairs to the fingers of his toes. Yet now, it also brought upon him an emotion that was neither understandable or explainable, one that felt like a cold mist that settled around his ankles without any warning.

Isaac did not understand the latter, no matter how hard he tried to explain it rationally, so he simply decided to sweep it under the rug.

"But-" Sierra protested, but she was cut short when the sound of hurried footsteps made itself faintly known. The three of them straightened up from their relaxed positions in anticipation.

The audible unbolting of the lock came, and soon the door opened inwards, heaving a great creaking sound as it did so. A small stream of light emerged, casting a straight line from the growing crack in the doorway to the orde the dark exterior. Finally, when the warm glow of the lamps hit Isaac's face, she narrowed her gaze, her tiny frame squinting up at him through silver eyelashes.

"You little rascal," was all he heard from the Old Nan as he felt a pair of arms tackle him into a fierce bear hug.

"Nan, you're going to kill me!" Isaac retorted as she hugged him with such great strength that he would not have disagreed if somebody told him that she was the daughter of a brown bear. He cast then an uneasy glance at Pax and Sierra, both of whom seemed to be holding air in, keeping themselves from erupting into laughs.

After several more seconds, she finally pulled away, though not before she was able to whack him upside the head. By then, the other two had given up on their attempts at propriety, bursting into chuckles as they nudged each other.

Isaac frowned as he rubbed the spot on his head which was already beginning to stain red. "What was that for?"

The old lady furrowed her eyebrows, the entirety of her face becoming a canvass of wrinkled skin as she did so, surveying him up and down. "You deserved it. Going off into some kind of week long excursion," she shook her head at him while she clucked in the way a disapproving grandmother would do. "Your parents have been worried sick since they came back!" She took a deep breath and raised a middle finger as Isaac opened his mouth to defend himself, effectively silencing him. This time, she seemed to take notice of the two people who were standing behind him, faces contorted in failed tries to silence their giggling. "And who are the ones behind you?"

"Oh," Isaac exclaimed as it dawned on him that she did not yet know who they were. "Nan, meet Pax Belluomo and Sierra Montmartre, my..." he paused for a moment unsure of what to call them, "friends." He then looked at Sierra and Pax and opened his mouth to introduce the old woman whose identity, without a doubt, they were probably curious of. "Pax and Sierra, meet Nan, one of our housekeepers."

Isaac watched them as they exchanged the usual pleasantries before letting an awkward silence settle over them. Old Nan's face seemed to go slack for a moment, her wrinkles turning back to a smooth state as her eyes lingered over Pax and Sierra. Then suddenly, as if attacked by an alarming realization, her face lit back up.