*— 𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 !

bad boy talking fast, talking dirty—he tells me that i'm hot so i tell him that i love him, and he says, ❛ girls your age never mean what they say. ❜

[iscldes-blog]

( poiscnveined. )

it takes everything in dante to keep quiet on the journey. there’s so many things left unsaid between them that he’s almost bursting with the need to talk, to tell her everything she’s missed while they’ve been — apart. yet he stays quiet, staring out the window and avoiding thoughts of their shared past.

as they arrive, contact of her hand is something so unexpected and so welcome that he freezes in place, his own hand hovering over the door handle. he barely has times to think before he turns to look at her hand, fingers barely long enough to circle his wrist, so delicately framing his skin — and then up at her face. he’s missed those eyes. 

there’s something raw in his eyes as she speaks, assuring him that she’ll be there ; that she has his back. his voice is nowhere near as confident as he replies, “back at’cha.” 

dante is almost graceful as he extricates himself from her grasp. though — he panics for a second as her hand slips away, afraid that this will be the last time he is ever able to touch her. he turns his hand around, catching hers before she can pull it away and he squeezes softly, something meant as a reassuring gesture. before he can linger and get used to it, he lets go, opens the car door and holds it open for her. they may be estranged but he has not forgotten his manners. 

in the brief seconds before she exits the car, dante composes himself. his face goes back to it’s neutral mask as he surveys the few people surrounding them and the big bank looming by them. by now, he is no stranger to business like this but it does not mean he is used to it. 

the tremble in his voice is barely there, but it’s hard to miss when one is listening as closely as isolde is. it feels like a lifetime since she’s heard his voice, and she’s trying her best to commit the sound of it to memory in case she never gets to hear it again. knowing that he is affected by her presence just as she is by his is a comforting thought, and against her better judgement, something like hope takes root in her chest. maybe he misses her too.

so focused on resisting the urge to hold onto him even as he pulls away, isolde is taken entirely by surprise when she finds her hand being enveloped in his, and she just barely manages to return the squeeze before they separate again. it feels like there are too many unspoken meanings hidden in that simple squeeze for her to decipher, and as much as she would like to try and figure out what exactly he’s trying to tell her, she cannot let herself forget the true reason they are there.

she thanks him quietly as she steps out of the car, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow after he shuts the door. it had been an instinctive gesture, a result of her sudden unwillingness to let him stray too far from her side, but if asked she would probably make up an excuse about having to look natural. as they make their way up the steps of the bank, isolde catches the flash of a phone camera from the corner of her eye. she opens her mouth, starts to say looks like i have fans in sweden before thinking better of it, covering up the aborted sentence with a delicate cough instead.

the bank is filled with the voices of both customers and employees, all coming together to form a strange sort of white noise as the pair of them walk in silence to an open counter. ‘ we’re here to make a deposit, ’ she announces, her voice taking on an edge of authority—a clear indication to the teller that they are people of importance. ‘ i believe we’re expected. ’

[iscldes-blog]

( pcllx. )

– “MAYBE ON THE ICE,” esme giggles, holding on to izzy as she fails to accomplish even the most simple movements. “you can come to a practice sometime, if you want,” esme offers. her coach didn’t usually like visitors, but by now, esme had gained enough leverage and renown to have things her way every once in a while. esme turns so that she’s holding both of izzy’s hands with her own, skating backwards on the ice slowly, guiding izzy along. she’s doing most of the work, pulling her along the ice, but izzy still has to keep some level of balance.

“you’re right!” esme playcates izzy’s dramatics with laughter, encouraging it, even. “what a bitch! do you really think i should show her up?” she asks, a glint in her eye. she’s definitely toned it down, mostly for izzy’s sake and the fact that it’s a recreational skating rink, but part of her is dying to let loose and fly around the rink. she hasn’t really done that for fun in quite some time. “i’d fight for your honor any day, on or off the ice,” esme teases, winking jokingly in her best attempt to seem charming. 

to say that isolde lights up at the invitation would be an understatement; catching glimpses of esme on the ice whenever they go ice skating together is one thing, but actually being able to watch her practice her routines is a whole other thing. ‘ i’d love to ! ’ she all but exclaims, her sudden excitement causing her to wobble more than she already is. thankfully, she manages to reclaim some of that lost balance before she falls flat on her face and embarrasses herself—more than she already has by being so terrible at it in the first place, anyway.

‘ i’d fight for yours too, ’ she returns with a grin, ‘ literally, i would. don’t tell kai i said that, though. i promised him that i would try my best not to start any fights, and he’s gotten really good at the whole i’m not mad at you, just disappointed expression. ’ she purses her lips then, eyebrows pulling together in an attempt to mimic kai’s disappointed face before giving up as another giggle slips past her lips instead. ‘ i think he’d approve of you fighting for my honour on the ice though—and i’m not just saying that because really want to see you skate. ’ gauging the distance between where they are and the side of the rink, isolde carefully disentangles their hands and wobbles precariously over to the railings. ‘ go on, esme, ’ she encourages with a wide smile, ‘ don’t let me hold you back now. ’

[iscldes-blog]

( persecvted. )

he felt his cheeks warm with a blush at that comment. kai didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about his appearance; not when it came to how attractive he thought he was or if anyone else thought about that. he did enough to keep himself clean, shaven and he even styled his hair sometimes. he had a thing for hygiene, after growing up in poor conditions, and after the strict rules of the military, he had a regimen he kept to, taking pride in clean teeth and skin and hair. as for his clothing, he was making the effort in Sweden and it wasn’t so bad, he still felt like himself just more dapper he supposed and everyone was really enjoying the change so far. maybe he’d carry it back to the city, surprise them all with his new sense of fashion. 

but then he was being led by isolde into some kind of elaborate photoshoot, wishing they could just take normal selfies and candids, like they used to. although, who was he kidding? izzy had never been that —-spontaneous. but he let her lead him and smiled again for the new photo, temple pressed to hers as her hair tickled his nose and eyelashes. when the photo was done he laughed and pulled away a bit to rub the tickle away. “you need a haircut.” he joked, trying not to sneeze. “yeah, i’m sure all your fans can’t wait to see your bodyguard.” another tease, even though he hadn’t been hers officially for a few years, he still felt the responsibility and desire to perform the job. except now it wasn’t so much a job, he cared about her and as much fun as she was she didn’t always make the best decisions. 

it reminded him a bit of esme but at least isolde managed to remain mostly sober. and then he wondered how he kept getting himself swept up in other people’s drama. maybe he enjoyed it somewhere deep down, getting to rescue them from —who or whatever it was. it made him feel less than useless, like he was doing something good and worthwhile, outside the sanctum. he didn’t get too many opportunities to feel like a good man these days which only reminded him of the money sitting in his camera bag right now, waiting to be deposited.

the faint pink that dusts his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed, although isolde has the decency to not comment on it at least. inwardly, though, she allows herself to admire the sight of a blushing kai—because what a sight he made, his normally imposing figure suddenly made softer by something as simple as a compliment. already, she finds herself thinking of how she might possibly make him blush again, next time. it only takes a second for her brain to cycle through a few ideas—some of which threaten to make her cheeks warm as well—before she forces herself to return her full attention to the man next to her at present.

‘ but who will i be without my long, beautiful hair ? ’ she returns dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder with careless ease, the act of mock offence she’s putting on dissolving with a fit of giggles. ‘ just kidding. you’re right, i probably need a trim, ’ she relents, and then finds herself scoffing at his next teasing statement. ‘ i think half of the people who follow me only do it for photos of you. the fact that the photos i post where you’re in it always gets the most number of likes is proof of it. ’ 

as she’s talking, she notices distractedly that there’s a strand of her hair that’s stuck to the side of his face. unthinkingly, she finds herself reaching for it, thumb brushing gently against his cheekbone as she grabs the errant strand. she realises with a start how close they are, and for one crazy, heart-stopping moment, she considers how easy it would be to just lean in and press her lips against his. isolde’s never really been known for her self-control, and she jerks back quickly to avoid doing something that might potentially fuck their friendship up, only recalling too late that she’s still standing on top of a fruit crate when it starts to tip over.

[iscldes-blog]

( warrxns. )

a grin spreads across his face. “you know,” he replies, “that’d be brilliant, actually.” he trains the lens of his phone’s camera at her. “i was thinking i could tag your parents. you know, give them a good ol’ aneurysm,” he suggests cheerfully, a semi-joke. “would it be more effective if i sit beside you?” more earnestly, he remarks as he takes a glimpse at the sunlit visuals surrounding them, “quite a beautiful day, isn’t it?” it’s nice to forget about the stressful situation that accompanies their free little trip, even just for a while.

‘ they’re going to find out i’m here anyway, ’ she snickers—in such nice weather, even the thought of her overbearing parents isn’t enough to put a damper on her mood, ‘ did i ever tell you that they hired someone specifically to stalk my social media so they can keep track of where i am and what i’m doing ? it’s like they forget that i’m a grown woman who can make my own choices. ’ isolde opens her eyes then, her lips pulling into a smile of their own accord as she catches sight of warren. ‘ get your ass over here, ’ she laughs, patting the spot next to her on the bench, ‘ it’s a beautiful day to give my parents an aneurysm. ’

[iscldes-blog]

( poiscnveined. )

in the time dante has been faced with the big, bad world, he’s learned to restrain his emotions. he’s learned the hard way that he cannot blink in the face of unplanned variables, can’t panic. the restraint helps him in his line of work where it’s all wolf eat wolf, and yet…. in his personal life, it has always been a hindrance. and now, an unplanned variable, a personal one — he finds all his restraint drain from him the moment isolde opens the car door. 

there’s a dull pain in his chest as he sees her, a rush of emotions tangled together in his head. he schools his face back into something more neutral, trying and failing not to look at her as she settles into the backseat. the space between them almost hurts to look across ; it makes him ache with nostalgia of how things used to be. there was barely personal space back then, pressed together at every possible moment, held hand in hand and smiling at each other as if things would never change….

he shifts in his seat, trying to find his mental footing here. he wants to badly to reach out to her but the space between them — it’s human-sized for a reason. instead, he resorts to glancing at her, can’t help but look — 

still, the question takes him by surprise. she sounds — so casual. as if this is small talk ; as if they’re perfect strangers. he lets a beat pass before he can make himself speak, trying to match her casual tone. “bank should be a stone’s throw away. don’t think our friends from up high would plan this all out only for us to be stuck in traffic for an hour.”

it feels like something in her cracks open at the sound of his voice, at the cool and disaffected tone he’s adopted. isolde knows that he’s only responding in kind to her question, but still—she has always been the kind of girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, and foolishly, she’d hoped that he would’ve heard the things she’d chosen to leave unsaid. maybe all those years of acting have finally come in handy at the worst possible moment. 

the distance between them fills the backseat like a physical presence, and isolde wants so badly to close it; it would be so easy to just let herself fall into his gravity—crash into him with enough force that it becomes impossible to discern where she ends and where he begins—but it feels almost wrong, to want him still even after everything they’ve lost. he deserves better, that’s what she keeps telling herself, refusing to even acknowledge the voice in her head that whispers: you’re just scared he’ll leave you, too.

the rest of the car ride passes in heavy silence. thankfully, dante had been right in that it wouldn’t take too long. isolde feels like she’s just barely holding herself together, her mind at war between burying herself in dante’s side and running as far away from him as she can. hopefully, not being stuck in a confined space will help. still, she finds herself reaching for him before he can exit the car, slender fingers wrapping around his wrist—the familiarity of the gesture almost makes her want to cry—to hold him back.

‘ uh... ’ she starts, struggling to come up with an excuse for the sudden touch that isn’t ‘ i panicked because i didn’t want you to be too far away from me ’ and failing. ‘ i’ll be right behind you, ’ is what she settles for in the end, giving him the smallest of smiles that she hopes doesn’t betray the way her heart is pounding in her chest.

[iscldes-blog]

( pcllx. )

– ESME WAS THRILLED WHEN ISOLDE ASKED HER. of course she wanted to go, but she figured she’d be going alone – most people don’t like to skate with esme, she’s incredibly hard to keep up with. but even after how they met, izzy’s never been too intimidated by esme’s ability to ask her to join, even after the way they met. she gets onto the ice first, showing off for a moment (she can’t help it) before she skates back to where izzy is clinging to the railing. 

“here,” she giggles, offering izzy her hand. she doesn’t mind how tight izzy grasps her – in fact, it’s pretty cute to watch her wobble around. it reminds her of a baby penguin. esme holds on to her as best she can, steering them out of the way of others that appear just as wobbly. it’s easy for her to multitask on the ice. “of course, thanks so much for inviting me!” she says. “you’re actually getting the hang of it…sort of,” esme adds, fibbing a bit. “i mean, don’t make any promises, but you won’t – not if i have anything to say about it.”

‘ i don’t think i’ll ever get the hang of it, ’ she confesses, ‘ but no one else is nearly as patient with me as you are. ’ isolde squeezes esme’s hands, attempting to bump their hips together but quickly aborting the action when her already precarious balance threatens to give out entirely. ‘ besides, it’s nice to watch you skate up closer—when i’m not holding onto you for dear life, of course. ’ she has no illusions as to her own skating abilities, and she is well aware of the fact that esme is almost entirely the reason she’s even still upright at the moment. even so, isolde finds herself pouting as a little girl—no older than six, she would guess—whizzes right past them, only serving to highlight just how terrible isolde is.

‘ did you see her ? she was totally showing off ! ’ she wasn’t, but isolde’s always been prone to the occasional dramatics. ‘ esme, i think you’re going to have to fight for my honour, here. i may not be able to skate, but you’re infinitely better than anyone else here, and that makes me amazing by association. ’ the logic is most definitely flawed, but it’s mostly just an excuse to see esme in her element anyway. ‘ hey, maybe you can just pull me around the rink, like they always do in those romance movies ! ’

[iscldes-blog]

( siggsofsins. )

siggs wasn’t really expecting anyone to come in, with some girl that still laying in his bed from the night before– but she was already changed he was going to walk her down to the front but that changed when he heard the voice come from isolde and his back visibly tensed at clem’s name, you could see it right before he slipped his shirt on. he closed his eyes before gesturing the girl to leave and he turned over to isolde wondering what she knew about him, but right now he didn’t want to think about the man that he could have been married to. 

“uh– yeah.” he said awkwardly looping his belt buckle into its place. well. this was awkward as he finally looked over at the girl. “yeah i’m from here.” he said kind of wishing this would be over but he couldn’t help but wonder how much clem has said about him. did she know about their past? suddenly, the thought made him feel uncomfortable and he knew that he was going to have to talk to him eventually on this trip but he was dreading it at the moment. “yeah– sure, i just have to head to the bank today but i could probably do after.” he said sitting on his bed and started getting his socks on.

the girl shoots isolde a dirty look as she brushes past, and truth be told she’s really tempted to make some sort of snarky remark about how she would’ve been kicked out eventually anyway, but manages to hold her tongue in favour of turning her attention to the blond man instead. she hadn’t missed the way siggs had tensed for a split-second at the mention of clem’s name, but isolde figured it was none of her business. they used to hang out all the time, and now they don’t—it’s happened to her enough times that she doesn’t think it warrants any snooping. besides, she has no desire to piss off the guy who’s about to give her a tour of the city; he’s probably not going to murder her just for being nosey, but isolde figures it’s better to err on the side of caution anyway.

‘ awesome ! ’ she exclaims, resisting the urge to stride further into the room and make herself comfortable while she waits for him, hovering almost-awkwardly at the doorway instead. ‘ where do you think we should go to first ? let’s not go somewhere too tourist-y, i want to get the authentic stockholm experience. it’s my first time in europe, y’know ? ’ it’s her first time outside of america, actually, but he doesn’t actually have to know that. realising that she’s rambling, isolde catches herself before she gets carried away on another tangent. ‘ at any point of time, if you want me to shut up, just tell me straight up, i promise i won’t be offended. clem always says i talk too much. ’ okay, so maybe she is a little curious about his relationship with clem.

[iscldes-blog]

( persecvted. )

strolling through the streets of Stockholm felt like a dream, he kept lifting his phone to take photos of odd bits of architecture, occasionally stopping to sketch an idea or two out on his phone. izzy seemed to be in her element as well, and if it weren’t for the sanctum they could just be two tourists exploring the city. but the sanctum had them there for a reason, still he’d ignore that for as long as he could. 

suddenly she’s heading down an alley and he’s become an instagram husband. with a playful roll of his eyes he follows, ready to take the photo until she wants to add him. “we both know you’re the photogenic one here.” he laughs, knowing he’s made appearances on her social media, just as she has on his. but he obliges, moving to stand next to her. “smile!”

‘ have you even looked in the mirror lately ? ’ she teases, ‘ i may be the prettier one of the two of us, but you certainly know how to pull off handsomely rugged. ’ the compliment is followed by a wink, the laughter that tumbles out of her lips just this side of teasing. when she’s not bogged down with a million other thoughts, joking around with kai comes almost as easy as breathing, the rapport between the two of them built up from all the years they’ve known each other.

isolde wraps a hand automatically around his waist as he snaps the picture, the smile she wears showing nothing short of genuine happiness. she reaches for his phone to check the photo, frowning slightly at the odd angle it had been taken at to fit the both of them into frame. looking around the alley, she spots a discarded fruit crate and immediately drags him over to it—and if she holds onto his hand for a beat longer than necessary, no one needs to know—stepping up onto the crate so that she can throw her arm across his shoulders instead, pulling him closer until their temples are pressed together. ‘ take another one ! ’ she giggles, ‘ the fans have been commenting on my recent photos asking where you are, and who am i to deny them the content they so desperately desire ? ’

[iscldes-blog]

LOCATION: ice skating rink at kungsträdgården. STATUS: closed for @pcllx !

outdoor ice skating rinks aren’t exactly novel to isolde, who’s spent many christmases ice skating at the rockerfeller center, but when she had heard about the rink at kungsträdgården, she knew that she just had to go. of course, she can’t go alone—aside from how lonely that would be, isolde’s never been good at ice skating, and being allowed to skate on her own is more of a hazard than anything else. naturally, the first person she had thought to ask to accompany her is esme. sure, ice skating with an olympic figure skater probably makes her look worse than she already is, but isolde enjoys watching esme as she skates; even without the fancy costumes, esme never fails to look absolutely ethereal on the ice.

or she would, if isolde let go of her hand for longer than two seconds at a time. thankfully, the rink isn’t too crowded—unsurprising, since it’s already march—which dramatically reduces the risk of her getting knocked over by anyone who so much as brushes against her. still, despite the agonisingly slow pace they’re moving at, isolde’s enjoying herself, and it shows in the grin she sports as she turns to her friend. ‘ thanks for coming with me, ’ she says, ‘ i promise you won’t have to take me to the emergency room this time. ’

[iscldes-blog]

LOCATION: maritzberg manor. STATUS: closed for @siggsofsins !

clement had mentioned how many doors down he was from her room, but isolde had been too distracted taking in the interior of the manor to remember the exact number he had told her. she’s kind of regretting that now, as all the doors kind of look the same. in the end, she picks a door a random, figuring that if it’s not clement’s room then she’ll just apologise and leave. in hindsight, she probably should have knocked first, instead of just barging into the room, but what’s done is done and she finds herself suddenly looking into the eyes of a half-naked blond man who looks vaguely familiar.

‘ sorry ! ’ she blurts automatically, averting her eyes as the man finishes getting dressed. ‘ siggs, right ? ’ isolde remembers him; there had been a time when he and clement had seemed rather close, and even though she’d never really spoken too much to him then, maybe this is a chance for her to change that. ‘ you’re from here, yes ? clem might have mentioned it, ’ she says, an attempt to make conversation even as her gaze remains trained on the floor at her feet, ‘ hey, maybe you can give me a tour of the city ! ’

[iscldes-blog]

LOCATION: private car en route to bank of sweden. STATUS: closed for @poiscnveined !

of all the people isolde had been expecting to see when she got into the chartered car, dante had not been anywhere close to being on the top of the list. and yet there he was, draped across the backseat like he’d never been more at ease, like he belonged there. but then he looks at her and isolde isn’t sure how she feels about the way his expression closes off, but there’s some comfort to be found in the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes. at least they’re both being thrown off the deep end. she climbs into the car and settles into the seat next to him, careful to leave a polite distance between them.

once, she wouldn’t have hesitated to fall into his side. now, there’s a physical distance between them, almost like they’re leaving a space for the ghost that haunts them both. isolde glances over at dante, but her gaze quickly drops down to her lap once more when she catches him looking back at her; it’s hard to look at him and not think about what—or who—they’ve lost. it’s harder still to not look at him at all. the silence that surrounds them fills her lungs with every breath she takes in and she chokes on it. how had they let things get this bad ?

i miss you, she thinks, i miss us. she says, instead, ‘ how long do you think it will take to get to the bank ? ’ and tries not to feel like she’s watching everything they ever had crumble to dust right before her eyes.

[iscldes-blog]

LOCATION: mårten trotzigs gränd. STATUS: closed for @persecvted​ !

there’s something about being away from new york city that makes the distance between them feel almost like it had been nothing more than a bad dream. lately, it had become difficult for her to walk down the streets back home and not remember the days when kai had once been a permanent presence, first at her back, then at her side. here, as they wander down the streets of old town stockholm, it feels like the world falls back into place. for the briefest of moments, isolde finds herself thinking that it would be nice to make some good memories here, memories that she can hold onto when kai eventually—no, she refuses to finish that thought.

not wanting the thoughts that she’s tried so valiantly to leave behind in new york to catch up to her, isolde turns to kai—and tries not to laugh at how much he stands out among the crowd of tourists that surround them—with a grin. ‘ hey, this alley is pretty. help me take a photo ? ’ and then before he even gets to reply, she steamrolls on, ‘ no, let’s take a photo together ! ’

[iscldes-blog]

( warrxns. )

“excuse me. would you mind moving to the side? i’m just trying to get a picture of this.” he gestured to the lovely place surrounding him and the other. sweden wasn’t a particularly notable destination for him, having been there several times already; but it served him to keep his followers consistently updated. “unless you want to be included in the shot…?”

‘ yes, i would mind moving actually. ’ isolde laughs, only making herself more comfortable on the bench at his request. she tilts her head up to the sky, eyes falling shut. it’s nice here; the air is cold, but it’s crisp in a way that feels fresh—she can’t say the same about the air back in new york—and she basks in the feeling of warm sunlight on her face. ‘ i’ll move in a moment so you can get your shot, ’ she says with a smile, head still faced towards the heavens. ‘ but if you want to take a photo of me too, then feel free. ’

[poiscnveined-blog]

DANTE HAYES & ISOLDE DAVENPORT: a moodboard

      ↳ “ but grief makes a monster out of us sometimes . ”

@iscldes

[iscldes-blog]

why do you only want kai now he's not interested?

‘ don’t you fucking act like you know shit about my feelings for kai–– ’ pause. breathe. try again. ‘ i… i’ve wanted him for a long time, longer than i’d even been aware of it. it’s so funny how everything is always so obvious in hindsight, isn’t it ? after that whole deal with my arranged marriage, that was when i knew, even though i think i had felt that way for a while already by then. i just never did anything, never acted on my feelings because i figured, why fix what isn’t broken, y’know ? i was so stupid, i thought what we had was forever—it sure fucking felt like forever. i guess that’s my own fault. ’

[iscldes-blog]

where would you be without the sanctum?

‘ sippin’ mai tais on a beach in bora bora or something. definitely not married to some creep i didn’t even love, because here’s the thing—i know clement would’ve gotten me out of there if push came to shove, and i doubt kai would’ve just stood by and done nothing about it either. going to the sanctum was me trying to save myself for once, instead of just letting the people around me constantly save me and pay the price for it. i’m a big girl now, i can take care of myself if i have to. ’

[iscldes-blog]

what's the hardest job you've done so far?

‘ the sanctum wanted a loose end tied up, some bigwig producer. it was supposed to be easy, get access to his home, dump the little vial of poison i’d been given into his food, clear the contents of his safe, get out. but it turns out the guy enjoyed having… dessert, before the main course. god, i never want to do anything like that ever again. i don’t mind the killing, he deserved it, but—i wish i could forget the way he looked at me. i felt so powerless and i hated it. ’