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The foreign throng of faces bustling through the hall was refreshing. Isolde was finally getting her blank page, her chance at trying again.

The air smelled different here in France, the people were different, no one she knew. She walked down the corridor, her boots tapping against the marbled beige floors. Her eyes nonchalantly scanned the numbers above every dark wood door, in search of room 57.

A warm fluorescent light poured through the windows, giving every passer by a halo around their shadowed faces.

"Euh, Excusez moi! Pouvez vous me dire où pui'j trouver la classe 57?" Isolde had stopped a random girl in-front of her asking for directions.

"Le deuxième étage." The girl simply answered before walking straight ahead.

The people here in Europe weren't as warm and welcoming as those back home. To her, something about that seemed comforting.

She proceeded her wandering, making her way up the foppish marble stairs. Painting after painting, a whole new dimension was created around her as her eyes fell upon the ancient gothic pieces. The black metal railing was cool under her fingertips, a nice contrast to the heat emanating from the crowd.

Isolde finally found herself at the top of the staircase, and just as she was about to allow her lips to be tugged into a sporadic smile, her expression quickly fell.

She could feel all the exhaustion she once bore come back to her. She felt the emotions mercilessly knock at her heart, begging to be welcomed, but she, as usual, shoved them back. She pushed them into the bottomless black pit that was perched where her heart once was. The bottomless black pit she was staring at. Those dark, dark eyes.

Her expression may have been stoic, but his was clearly struggling to keep it together. She watched as the emotions ran across his face, getting mixed up. First recognition flashed in his eyes, before confusion swept over them, then was unmistakably replaced by dread and grief. It was all there, obvious in the way his eyebrows drew together, the way his jaw clenched and lips struggled to settle in a single position.

No.

No,no,no,no,no.

This can't be happening.

This was supposed to be an escape, a safe place. What was he doing her-

The Inconspicious Twist of FateDär berättelser lever. Upptäck nu