FALLEN | rowan whitethorn x oc

CHAPTER EIGHT - confessing and then Rowan is a jerk

Many things happened after Rowan's statement. Fenrys choked with his own saliva and started coughing while his whole face acquired different shades of the color red. Gavriel jumped to his feet to pet his friend's back, encouraging him to keep coughing to get out of his system whatever had caused his sudden burst of coughs. Lorcan was just part of the audience, since he had seen the critical event taking place in front of him; but had remained standing in his place with an expression that could only mean pure and utter boredom. Isabella saw him rolling his eyes after Fenrys had calmed down and started drinking from a glass of water that Gavriel had practically run to get for him. Isabella wondered if perhaps Lorcan was used to Fenrys and his dramatic reactions to Rowan's words. And her thoughts were confirmed when Fenrys tried to sit on a chair and Lorcan –oh, so slyly- kicked it with his leg at the same time that Fenrys threw his whole weight on the chair to sit. The blonde, attractive, male ended up with his ass hard on the floor. Lorcan's expression was the same; the only difference was a slight glint in his eyes that spoke greater than any smile or laugh. It was a glint full of mischief well accomplished. Isabella was surprised by this side of Lorcan that she didn't know and she hadn't read in the books. Or maybe she just had missed it.

Rowan was the only one who never even glanced at the other males. He was looking at her from head to toe, a small frown in his face. He was inspecting her, scrutiny written in every single one of his features. He also seemed a little wary of her as if, for the first time, he was not sure of what she was capable of doing. Good, she thought. But having his attention was beginning to have different kinds of reactions on her. Isabella's heart was a constant rhythm in her chest, a fast, deep and exhilarating rhythm. It was a combination of fear and excitement, she knew. And she had started to feel heat moving all over her body, but accumulating intensely on her cheeks. She could imagine she looked almost as red as Fenrys when he had fought for air only mere minutes ago. The thought brought a whole lot of embarrassment to Isabella so she turned her gaze away from Rowan. But he didn't, he kept looking at her –which she knew because she couldn't help but look at him from the corner of her eye-, even when Fenrys tried to stand up and fainted –dramatically- right away. The male fell back on the floor, Gavriel hadn't run fast enough to catch him but he did throw the unconscious body over one of his shoulders and walked with it until he disappeared through the tent's 'door'.

A low, raspy laugh caught Isabella's attention. The sound had startled her. She turned to look at where the sound was coming only to find Lorcan's body shaking with every laugh, his eyes closed as if repeating the moment over and over again in his mind. She had heard him laugh before but it was only at that moment that Isabella realized what made Lorcan's laugh so different and remarkable, it sounded like the kind of laugh that rarely happened. The kind of laugh that, if things were different, people would hear constantly; but that people never heard because things were not different. The kind of laugh that the own male voicing it was not used to hearing, and neither did the people around, because the male didn't usually laugh. It was harsh and restrained. Isabella was sure that many people would find it horrible, but she thought it was beautiful because, despite everything, it was still honest and –even a bit- childish.

In the last three years, she had only heard three types of laughs coming out of someone's mouth: bitter laughs, disregarding laughs (usually directed at the prisoners), maddening laughs (usually coming from both prisoners and captors) and the laugh that followed after someone cried and realized that there was no escape. Isabella wished she never heard those sounds ever again. But she had always wished for many things.

Lorcan's, however, was remarkable and stunning, and it made her chest feel warm. She tried to imagine how Rowan's laugh would sound. He had laughed with Aelin, back in the books, and it had been described. But she wanted to hear it with her own ears, she wanted to see his face when he found something funny, and she wanted to see the way his mouth moved when that sound left his mouth. She knew Rowan had been through terrible things in his long, immortal life, but she still wondered if, perhaps, it was also like Lorcan's.