Pacifier

\\ Isabelle //

I waited up all night to hear Van follow my brother up the stairs but he didn't come.

Not until the sun was rising slowly, pale and yellow and breaking through the cracks in the curtains in thin sickly rays. She looked underslept just like me.

I listened for his footsteps and when they came my heart skipped a beat. When they stopped outside my door my heart stopped all togeher.

I lay still, listening, holding my breath, waiting to hear his footsteps echo down the hallway or change their mind but they didn't do either. Not for a moment at least.

For a moment he hovered, hesitant outside my door. For a moment he left me wondering what exactly it was he was thinking about whilst he stood there. I wondered whether he could sense that I was still awake, I wondered whether he wanted to come in.

And then he did.

No light split through the darkness of my bedroom when he pushed gently on the door. He'd been standing alone in the dark. When my door opened he waited for a moment before pacing carefully, quietly across the room to the armchair which sat in the corner of my room beside a record player and a stack of books I'd get round to reading one day when I was fed up with Vladimir.

He sunk down into the chair softly and leant his head back against the wall, and when he did he let out a soft sigh.
But that was all.

He thought I was sleeping and he wasn't going to try and wake me.

I rolled over in my sleep so that I was facing him, my face concealed by my hair and my duvet, which I pulled up a little futher to hide my small smile as I watched him, resting his eyes just for a moment.

I thought about sitting up, about whispering his name. I thought about pretending to wake up.
But under the pale sunrise through my curtains I could just about make out his milky expression, his tired eyes. His troubled simmering glaze.

For a moment i wondered whether he knew who's room he was in.

And then I did, know that is.

"Isabelle..." he hummed, eyes still shut, "come here love," he said, his voice low and lethargic. He sounded tired, a little on edge. I bit my lip, blinked back at him in the dark. Wondered whether or not he'd seen me watching him before he'd closed those tired eyes.

I remained still for a moment, hesitant. I knew I should have been sleeping, I didn't want to sit up too soon and wind up in some sort of trouble but when he let out a soft chuckle I relaxed.

"I know you're awake Belle," he said, that edge in his voice grating a little, only a little but it was enough for me to work out his impatience. "Come on darlin, sit with me awhile,"

I could tell from the tone in his voice that he wasn't really asking, but I didnt mind. I bit back a small smile as I pushed myself up, let the covers slip from my shoulder slow and sleepy like the rest of me.

I was tired, so tired that my body ached with it. So tired that when I slipped from my bed, standing alone before him in nothing but a tshirt, my legs shook a little. All of me yearned for rest, but all of me yearned for him too.

So i trod quietly, lightly and moved towards him. He leant back in his chair and rested his temple on his fist, and when he looked up at me his hair fell across his face. His lips wore a quiet smile.

In the low light of the morning his eyes were icy blue but they caught the light as they flickered over my body and drew a blush on my cheeks. They were warm. Warm with morning rays which would keep us both sleepless now.

"Sit," he said opening his legs, holding one hand out for me to take.

For a moment I was hesitant, sort of shy. His gaze still lingered. It lingered on my bare legs, on my hips which caught my baggy tshirt and stuck out like little cliffs. It lingered on my jaw and the curve of my lips. It lingered on all of me all at once and suddenly I was self concious.