isobelpls:
isobel wasnât one to get easily flustered. usually, she prided herself with being the object of many a tongue tied individual. but there was something about thea that was threatening to throw her off guard, a spark that could turn into a roar if the other girl merely wished. itâs another thing that intrigues isobel, the ability to turn that power off and on. she silently curses herself for the excitement that blooms inside her chest when the promise of date is laid out before them, one that rarely ever appears. âthatâs a lot of pressure.â the corners of roseate lips lift ever so slightly. âlucky for you i donât get performance anxiety.â the laugh spills from her lips after the words, unbidden but surprisingly welcome. âgod, i sound like a frat boy, donât i?â
thea hadnât thought it was possible to let a laugh escape her that didnât sound bitter, that wasnât the product of frustration or bordeom and yet here she was -- laughing along with the words of a date, her date of all things. if only her family could see her now, if only she could see herself now -- freeze this moment in time and replay it over and over so she could hold onto the idea that maybe things really did get better. âi will admit you do kind of sound like a frat boy.â her lips quirked up, âbut youâre a lot cuter than most of the frat boys i usually deal with so i think i have to give you a free pass.â









