Life for Isabelle Green is perfect. Except for whatever it is that lurks in the dark when the lights go out.
~~~
Note: This is NOT a paranormal story. No jump-scares, no purple veiny hands and no skeletal figures. Just a lil thrill and romance~
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I gaze in adoration at the strong, beautiful girl beside me as she looks up to examine my home with interest. When she turns to look at me, I am caught staring red-handed, but instead of backing down, I stubbornly hold her eyes. The blinding light from the setting sun seems to bounce off her smooth skin as she looks down shyly, muttering something about me being stupid.
Rather than dishing out an intelligent retort that would prove otherwise, I let my eyes wander further down her slender neck to her collar bones that peek out from under her shirt. I hide a smile at the way my coat is awkwardly wrapped around her, her small frame looking almost comical in the large, brown leather coat. Slowly, my eyes fall to where she nervously wrings her delicate hands together, much to my amusement.
"Isabelle, calm down. They're going to love you, I promise."
"You don't know that!" she cries in despair. "I couldn't even bother to get a gift!"
I roll my eyes. "You're my guest, you know. In my house. Just take a chill pill." Isabelle scowls at this.
"Your house?"
Grinning sheepishly, I turn to the door where Mom leans on the doorframe. "Zico Silva Rodrigues, I don't quite remember signing the house off to you?" She taps her chin, pretending to think. "Or you cooking your own meals to feed that beast of a stomach of yours?"
"Mom!" I protest. Okay, maybe it isn't my house, but she needn't embarrass me in front of Isabelle.
"And you, darling, must be the lovely Isabelle," Mom smiles at the timid girl. I glare at her sudden change in attitude.
Hesitantly, Isabelle returns the smile. Immediately, she is engulfed in a hug. She looks over at me helplessly as I grin. Mom is known to freak people out with her over-friendliness, but the way Isabelle slowly melts into the affectionate embrace tells me she doesn't mind.
Always eager to ruin the moment, I clap my hands obnoxiously. "Alright, I think that's enough. I hope you remember who the son is." I point a finger at myself.
Mom chooses to ignore me and continues to gush about how she would love to show Isabelle around the city and the shopping hotspots if she liked.
I gulp. Letting two women become shopping-buddies is an extremely dangerous territory for a man.
"Now, mom, I'm sure Isabelle is tired. Why don't we all go inside for now?" I try again. Mom narrows her eyes in suspicion.
"Oh, it's alright," Isabelle reassures. "If you don't mind, I would love to look around your garden, Mrs Rodrigues. Did you grow those pansies over there yourself?"
"Why yes!" Mom exclaims happily. "And, young lady, that's Maria to you." She grins and looping her hand through Isabelle's, leads her towards the house. "I'm sure we have plenty of time for that later, though. For now, why don't we help you settle down comfortably? I must say, that monstrous coat does not look very cosy."
