Pacifier

\\ Van //

I stood beneath the Balcony, her shadow looming from the dark end of the street. 

I stood, silhouette jetted out, watching her warm glow leaking out through the windows we hadn't boarded up.
She looked wounded but not sad and not defeated. She looked like a survivor and she was. Just like the rest of us.

And for a moment, only a moment, i allowed myself to do something i seldom allowed myself to do.
I thought of my father. I thought of what he would think of me.

What he would think if he saw the Balcony looking the way that she did. Shot up, with her windows blown out, her black eyes starring out at the city.
I couldn't remember a day hed ever allowed her to look that way. Injured.

I wondered why that was. What I was doing differently.

Had he been smarter or meaner? Had he been less forgiving or more.
I'd been young when he'd begun to train me up as it were. I'd been younger than little Isabelle. I'd always known that this was who I was going to be. Even if it took a long time, I was always going to grow into the man I was today. I'd had choices, to be ruthless or to be merciful, I could have chosen to do things a little differently but no.
I'd learnt the violence and the unforgiving from my father and when I'd witnessed his murder any heart I had left, any mercy, any hope had been drained from me. Any soul.

I was the shell of the child I'd hardly had the chance to be, walking around with these dead, cold blue eyes. Like my soul had frozen over. Like I was locked in perpetual winter.

That was when a light switched on upstairs and I felt myself begin to thaw. The same way I always seemed to when i saw her.

Isabelles silhouette curved as she twisted in front of the window reaching for something behind her. For a moment I was stunned, held captive by her ethereal shadow and the saintly glow of silvery moonlight on her skin. It danced as she moved and she shimmered as she pulled her jumper over her head and lifted her top with it. Her belly surprised me but it pleased me too until I realised what she was doing. That if I could see everyone else could see too.

When I realised that, I surprised myself and started running. I didn't bother to say hello when I swung through the door, I didn't notice the stairs as I raced up them. And I didn't knock when I reached her bedroom i just burst in. Surprised her. More than made her jump, I froze her. Only realised I'd scared her when I heard her gasp and clutch at the school shirt she'd just undone, pulling it back across her chest though it wasn't enough to cover herself properly and black lace caught my eye and held me simmering speechless for a moment. Only for a moment.

"Isabelle what the hell are you doing?" i brushed past her heading straight for the window where her curtains were still open and she was still lit up for the outside world to steal glances at and enjoy.

"Wha... Oh..." she followed me across the room and when her eyes set on my hands still clutching the curtains, my back turned on her, she realised. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and swallowed down a little nervously. "Oops," she chewed her cheek, blinked back at me. And then she smirked. "At least you enjoyed the view," she dared to meet my gaze, her impish smile taunting me, her naivety infuriating me.

"So did half of fuckin Manchester!" i snapped not quite catching how i made her jump or how she flinched. How she lost that cheeky glint from her eyes in a split second.

"You're angry again..." she lowered her voice, watching me now a little cautiously from under her lashes as she backed away, hesitant. Not shy and not fearful but somewhere caught inbetween the two.

Still she was right, I was. Something about the thought of anyone else seeing her like that, celestial and glowing, infuriated me. Something about the thought that a Reid might have caught a glimpse of her in all her careless beauty, enraged me. And it shouldn't have.

"You're mine Izzy," i said, voice low, stepping towards her, closing the gap between us.

She was pressed against the wall, her back leaning into its, her eyes looking up at me through her lashes. Her chin slightly tilted towards me. She bit her lip a little nervously and didn't realise just what she was putting me through in that moment.

"And that view..." i leant in, talked soft and low in her ear, eyes locked with hers, softening her, "is for my eyes only,"

I could feel her breath on my cheek, i could hear how when she exhaled each little sigh shook as I brushed over the cotton of her blouse with the back of my finger which caught on her collar just below her collar bone, only held up by her gripping fingers.

"Understand?" i asked, almost lost completely to her.

The ice in my heart and in my soul thawing, melting when her wide eyes met mine and she nodded, held speechless and on edge by me.

I took her fingers in mine, pried them away from her shirt one by one, holding her tiny hands in mine, transfixed by the fabric which slipped from her shoulders and the view it left me.

Her skin shimmering, she was silky under the low lamplight of her bedroom. Her shirt bunched up around her wrists and her waist leaving her alone in just a little black lace bralette.

"I asked if you understood me Isabelle, use your words..." i said, struggling to control my voice as I stepped closer still, looking down at her and her lips and their little trembles. She wasn't timid exactly but small, and soft, and I needed her more than anything. More than anyone I'd ever known.

That wasn't a surprise to me anymore, I'd known it for a long time. That I'd die for her, that my purpose in life was to keep her safe, the protect her at all costs.
But the desire was a shock and the intensity with which I felt it was terrifying.

I was frozen, not enchanted by her but hooked on her. An addict. All i wanted was to drink her down, soak in her. The warmth and tenderness she was still able to show the world.
I needed her to teach me how to be both of those things again. How to quell the anger and the violence which fuelled me and drove me to madness every day.
And yet if I allowed her too close, if I allowed her touch to melt the ice, blunt the knife, smooth the blade, I made sure that I failed.
I would not be able to keep her safe if I allowed her into my head like that. I was, afterall, one of those dangerous men I was supposed to be protecting her from.

"Van," her voice seemes to drift in from out of nowhere and when it did I realises that my breathing was ragged, a little too heavy. Id been starring down at her lips too, I'd been diatant. Too far away for her to reach for a moment or two, but now her hand was raised to my cheek, her fingertips cool and tender, caressing my skin.

"Van," she said again, her eyes locking with mine. I said nothing but I held her gaze, saw her pooling brown eyes deep and dark abd syrupy sweet. "I understand," she said, looking up at me with honey in her eyes. And just like that I was hypnotised and giving in and I felt my hands moving, stroking over her bare waist, my hands big on her tiny frame, before I'd really thought about what I was doing.

"I know," she said softly, standing on her tiptoes, her lips pressed lightly against mine, "I know I am..." she whispered, trailing her lips along my jaw and down to push them against my neck.

I swallowed a lump in my throat, paralysed and struggling to breath, fighting with myself to resist the urge to push her up against the wall, kiss her lips and her neck and everything else. Resisting the urge to lift her up, have her wrap her legs around my waist, hold her there, between my body and the wall.

"Know what?" i asked, heart struggling with its speed when she pressed another kiss to my neck and all my hairs stood on end.

And then she pulled away again, leant up against the wall and pushed her chest out, chin tilted down, eyes looking up, locked on me, all mischief and something else.

"I'm yours,"

And when she said those words and her lips curved a small smile, sincerity and silky teasing entwined, there was nothing else I could do.
I couldn't help myself.