WHO: Lister & Lister WHEN: Wednesday, February 17th Evening [ Backdated ] WHERE: Izzy's Room WHAT: “Plus what in the fuck could I even get up to in a week.” RATING: There's 'some' colourful language. STATUS: Closed/Complete
Izzy was having a hell of a few days. Between stupid ass kids and demon possessions and having to run around some random Virginia town to, well, Sunday… to Dominic showing up? It was about all she could handle on top of having to purposefully avoid her brother, just for the sake of her sanity. Plenty had happened to push her frustration, confusion, and utterly complicated set of emotions a little over the edge. Plenty, of course, that she was just internalizing and ignoring and not thinking about - which was really just to be expected of course. There is no fire to see here everyone, everything is fine. It was just a totally normal life in the week of Isolde. Totally normal. Thankfully there were plenty of ways for her to ’deal’ with her very complicated set of emotions. The current and ongoing prescription? Netflix, a too empty glass of wine, and the occasional throwing of an object against her door from the safety of her bed.
She slipped out of her bed just as a new episode of whatever it was she was watching, she wasn’t even paying attention really, and popped into her office to look for something else to drink - wine, whatever, she didn’t really have a preference at the moment.
--
Once upon a time Dominic would've given her some space. But the last time he'd been caught up in his own thing and given her plenty of space she'd disappeared for a self destructive jaunt across a few continents. Now she was suspiciously avoiding him like the plague with only online jabs at least keeping them in contact.
Enough was enough though, he had to find out what was up with her, if she was alright and safe. One week back at work and something was making her this sketchy and avoidant. Anything could have happened and he had to know she was okay. At least he was going to spare her door by picking the lock instead. If she was in, and the sounds of a tv indicated she might be, then good. That way he didn't have to wait around for her.
Dominic made quick work of her lock, slowly opening the door with the same caution he'd enter any hostile territory. Had to be prepared to get something thrown at his head or to be ambushed, not accounting for that with Izzy was dangerous.
--
Isolde was much too busy trying to make sense of getting her bottle of vodka open - some idiot had managed to not perforate it correctly, adding to her list of frustrations of the week - to hear the subtle clicking noise at her door over the sound of her laptop. Taking a hearty swig as soon as she got it open she took a step back from her desk with a grumble. She had nothing to mix the liquor with but, quite frankly, wasn’t in the mood to care at the moment.
She could have sworn she heard the door open, but she shook her head - she had been pretty damn sure she locked the door. Who would be stupid enough to try and break in? Must have been something on the laptop. She sighed with frustration - straightening out her rather itchy turtleneck before she stepped into the doorway of her office to see no other than her brother standing there. Apparently someone was stupid enough.
“What the actual fuck Dominic!” She said, chucking the vodka bottle’s cap at him. “Who the fuck do you think you are just barging in here like you fucking own the place.” There wasn’t enough vodka in the world for the confrontation she was pretty sure she might be just about to have - but she was sure as hell glad she’d already been drinking. There was no way she was talking to him sober.
--
That had been expected. Dominic let the bottle cap hit him in the chest and bounce off, it was probably the nicest thing she could throw at him anyway. Maybe he should get her to hand the bottle over before that was the next thing. But great, she was clearly a bit drunk, rather distressed (okay he couldn't blame that one too much but still) and wearing a turtle neck of all things like it was the early 2000s. Not her usual style but maybe it was just the cold.
"I came to see how you were, Izzy. You've been avoiding me enough." Which he was going to pretend he wasn't hurt and overly concerned by. Though the fact that he'd broken in probably said a lot. He gave her a look now. "You're definitely fine like you said."
--
Isolde really couldn’t believe he’d have the audacity to break into her god damn room. He had guts, sure, but she didn’t think he’d go that far. I mean, sure, she’d been avoiding him really hard and she, sure, had given him plenty of reason to be concerned in the past but he had no reason to be actively concerned at the moment. At least none that he was actively aware of. She took a swig from the vodka bottle after letting out a frustrated huff, if only to distract from the thought - as it really made her neck itch.
“And you couldn’t have… knocked? Called? Texted? I don’t know… anything? Something?” She could read his face and she knew exactly what it meant and she knew exactly what sort of accusations he was throwing out, whether he was being blatant about it or not. The last thing she wanted right now… was questions. “Clearly, you expected a better reaction to the fact that the one person who should trust me, fucking obviously doesn’t.” She said, her voice laced with her frustration.
--
"Knocked, called, texted, sat outside your door...like I did the first morning? 'I'm fine Dominic, ask Harlow'." Clearly very fine here. He tried not to be too frustrated with her, of course knocking would've gotten nothing, he'd already tried that and not like she'd voluntarily want to see him, certainly not while she was in this state.
Sighing at all this, Dom pulled out her desk chair and sat to reduce his height and the way he towered over her which no doubt wasn't helping things. "It's not about trust, you know that. So what's going on here? While I'm sure drinking and throwing things at me is a fun hobby, there's usually more to it. Help me out here, Iz."
--
“Let's be clear, you woke me up and gave me no warning. I wasn’t exactly going to be hospitable to a sneak attack.” Which was at least half true, which made it easier to say. Half truths were way easier to pull off than full on lies. Especially given that she wasn’t exactly sober, understatement of the year that one was - okay maybe of the day.
Izzy’s eyes watched her brother as he sat down, not exactly pleased he was here but clearly there was nothing she could do about it. Clearly she was going to have to pull this off because there was no way telling him the whole truth was going to work. Focusing on why she was mad specifically at him was going to have to do it. “It damn well is about trust Dom.” She said, folding her arms over her chest as best she could with the bottle still in her hand. “I did fine on my own damn well long enough for you to be able to trust me a few states away. But you don’t. I’ve done fine for years. I’m fucking fine.” She said, definitively. She was absolutely going to avoid any descriptors as long as she could.
--
"It was Monday morning, you were supposed to be up for work anyway," he responded evenly. He'd been purposefully trying to catch her before work, much good that did him.
As she ranted at him he listened far too calmly, it was somehow easier to calm himself down in the face of Izzy's rage. A not so subtle reminder that he had to be the calm in-control one of them. Even if her words brought forth the elephant in the room. "That was before." Before Stefan, before they'd both spiralled a little and before it felt like everything went to hell in a hunter-sized handbasket. "You were fine before but...what are you doing? You're not fine now. You really can't tell me this is your new level of fine, can you?" Not after a week. What had been the point of the six months at home if she could spiral out of it so fast? This was why he worried after her so much, sometimes with Izzy all it took was one thing and she was off losing control of things.
--
Isolde rolled her eyes, “I’m like a 3 minute walk from work, I don’t have to be up that early unless I want coffee.” Though, technically she had been incredibly late to work that morning. She hadn’t gotten in until around 11 by the time Ridley managed to help her find a proper shirt. There was no way she was going in in something less than she had on right now, just a scarf would have been way too risky.
The more rational part of her did know that a lot of this had to do more with Stefan than with her, per se, but right now she was in defense mode. Plus she’d had more vodka than she’d admit to - so the rational part of her mind wasn’t exactly in the winning corner. “I am fine.” She reiterated. “A week ago I also had some personal space, which I now no longer have.” She said, arching her eyebrows as she gave him a little look. A week ago, hell a few days ago, her life was a lot less confusing and complicated than it was right now. “I’m not allowed to be a little drunk and a little pissed you didn’t warn me?” More half truths, because he was definitely not going to get the other part of the story even if she started dying of a heart attack right there on the spot.
--
“You know that each time you say ‘I'm fine’ with a vodka bottle in hand it gets less and less convincing,” he pointed out with an eye to the bottle in her hand before reaching out for it. “This isn't drunk and pissed at me, if it was you would've come storming out of your room to give me an earful on day 1. I'm here to help you, so tell me what's wrong, other than your objections to me, and we'll do something about it.” Thank god he'd come when he did, who knew what would've happened if he waited a week longer.
--
Isolde turned away just enough so that he couldn’t grab the bottle. Giving him a stern look before taking a swig, if only out of defiance for the fact that he’d tried to take it. “Maybe I’ve grown up enough to not scream at people in hallways any more.” She said with a bit of a huff. “Also, it's cold out so maybe I just wanted to stew in anger at you in my room while watching Netflix angrily.” She let out a little snort of anger. “Plus what in the fuck could I even get up to in a week. There’s barely anything to do here. Everyone is always busy. Like hell, literally. What the fuck could I have gotten up to? I’m not creative enough to come up with something that fast.” She was tempted to make a joke out of the whole situation, but maybe she’d save that for a little later.
--
He had to give her a deadpan look at the angry huffs and poor excuses. Well what had he expected really? At least this wasn't Hong Kong or anything near that. That had him considering sedatives for a bit. “We both know you can manage a lot in a week. Clearly,” he added, gesturing to the state she was in. “So what is it then? Tell me what you've been doing on your first week back instead.”
--
“Saying clearly over and over isn’t any sort of example. It’s not like I’ve… I don’t know, whatever.” She bit back any example because any example was way too close to reality. “I haven’t done anything.” Except she totally had and she was absolutely hiding it from him. Not out of regret, but entirely out of preferring all parties to remain alive and... not staked. Though she also absolutely wasn’t going to go and admit he was right, even if he was - because clearly she could manage a lot in a week. “There was a whole, stupid kids summoning a demon thing but… that was really whatever.” Poor goats, she was still a little sad for them.
--
The demon case mention had him grow quieter and forgo a comment about her use of fine plus the fact that no examples was not exactly reassuring. Was that what this was about? Some idiot kids had summoned a demon and paid for it with some gruesome death like their brother's? If so he couldn't entirely fault her for this. It only worried him more really. “And what happened to them?”
--
As much as Izzy had acted like the whole case was fine, it had struck a bit of a nerve with her - just not as much as it might have normally since it did, technically, end fine. She at this point was also way more distracted by everything else. She wasn’t sure demons were… exactly a thing she wanted to discuss with Dominic either though - so right now the turn in conversation was really a toss up for her. “Oh, the kids fine. Well. Three of them are.” Dead kids from demons, exactly another topic she did not want to discuss with her brother, though it definitely was second to hey I slept with a vampire you work with who is like hey right next door. “I mean, worst sort of kids though. Revenge on their parents sort of thing. Was just, typical.” She shrugged.
--
“And they went for a demon of all things? Stupid kids indeed,” he shook his head. Despite both of them avoiding the obvious topic he had to admit this was the most...well not normal but perhaps the least antagonistic part of the conversation so far. “Vodka caps aside, quite the decor change you've got going here. I like it,” Dominic said as he leaned down to retrieve the bottle cap she'd thrown earlier along with a stray piece of paper nearby.
--
“Yeah was some wikia witchcraft bullshit, poor Ridley had to deal with it. You don’t even want to know what they did to the spell book it was… nasty to a new level.” She really wished she could wipe the memory of that from her brain… permanently. She watched him lean down and her whole body tensed as she realized what she’d left on the ground. She was a fucking idiot. She must have just read it and thrown it right back down in frustration. Fuck. “Uh.” She mumbled, “Yeah I refused to pick anything out, Mom said light colours was your idea and shoved this shit in my face.” She said, forcing herself to roll her eyes and try not to react. “Here, pass that over, I’ll cap the bottle or whatever if it makes you happy.” She was just sort of… hoping he might pass the paper too.
--
When Dominic glanced back up at her there was something different in her body language, though he couldn't say what. Maybe she was just easing off being so defensive and annoyed with him, at least he hoped so. "Well it looks good," he said with a small smile as he switched the bottle cap to his free hand to hand it off to her, keeping the bit of paper with him. "And it's still neater than your old room, even if you leave bits of chinese takeout around-" He idly flipped the paper in his hand over, catching sight of the note written on the other side.
The smile on his face stayed initially but instantly it disappeared from his eyes. Didn't have to bite thrice. One week, it had been barely over a week and she'd already...fine his ass. After all that time at home trying to help, it had taken her a week to start lapsing into self destructive again. Raising his eyes back to her slowly, it was clear he was holding a lot back. "Izzy..." There was no smile now, just a hard look and tone as he glanced from her eyes to the turtleneck. "Show me your neck."
--
Fuck. That hadn’t worked. This was not going to go well, not going to go well at all. But she at least had to make sure that she didn’t show that on her face. Maybe, hopefully, he’d just think it was trash? As long as he didn’t actually read it. At least someone hadn’t signed it, thank God. Luckily enough for Izzy, she was at least fairly good at bullshitting - even if she was fairly not sober at the moment. He would like the damn room. Of course he would. Her mind was all over the place right now, there were way too many ways the next few moments could go and she was pretty sure at least 75% of them ended with her not having a head in the end of this conversation (literally or metaphorically). “It’s too white.” She interjected with a roll of her eyes as she capped the bottle of vodka.
She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from reacting immediately to him, quite clearly, noticing the hand writing on the scrap paper. Well, that was bad. Understatements were really starting to be her new forte. She knew she had to respond quick so she immediately rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, Dom.” She said, forcing a laugh. “You’re fucking with me right?” At this point, she may as well just outright lie, right? He’d seen the note, but there wasn’t a name so… she should at least make an attempt to play it off. Plus, biting could mean like… several different things. “I had a fun Sunday. Someone got a little exuberant with the hickeys and tequila.” She arched an eyebrow, “Do you want to police my sex life now too?” She noted with a huff.
--
His expression stayed unamused, having none of it. As if she put that much effort every time she had a hickey. "If it's just..." He glanced at the note pointedly. "Three hickeys and nothing else, then there's no need to hide it. You show me and I'll be wrong." And wouldn't she like him to be wrong was the implied challenge. Because who really apologized for three hickeys? Especially when there were vampires about.
--
Clearly he wasn’t buying it, but she wasn’t going to exactly let up that easy and she gave him a curious look. “You’re seriously fucking with me, right?” She said harshly, “I don’t even know what the hell you think I’ve done.” Of course she did, she did exactly what he thought she’d done - but that was completely besides the point. “Do you really trust me that little that you’re going to fucking demand to see my neck for God knows whatever fucking paranoid reason you’ve come up with in your head?” She said, tilting her head to the side a little as she tried to sell her best accusatory glance. At the very least she had to keep him from finding out who. Finding out what right now? That, that she might be able to deal with. But at the very least she had to keep this from getting too bad.
--
"You don't, do you?" He was quite sure they both knew what he thought she'd done, but it was never easy with Izzy. If it was he wouldn't need to be here. Dominic could feel the anger and frustration building up and he clenched his jaw to hold it all back. He had to fight for every little step forward with her, only to have it become three steps back the next time. It had been difficult enough trying to get her to see him, not to mention unsuccessful. And now he had to play beat around the bush with something that almost seemed obvious but she wouldn't admit to? Anger wouldn't do anything though, he had to always stay the calm one whenever possible.
Taking a deep breath but still glaring, Dominic gave a short nod. "Alright Izzy. Give me a reason to trust your word that you're fine and this is not what I think it is. Every time you show me I'm wrong, it's another reason to trust you. And I'd rather trust you than worry, so go ahead. Prove me wrong."
--
Isolde rolled her eyes, “As if you ever actually tell me what you’re accusing me of.” She was frustrated, for more reasons than she could properly wrap her head around. She needed to avoid this, she had wanted to avoid him (despite Tobias’ and Harlow’s attempts at actually telling her to do the opposite), she didn’t like the confrontation. This wasn’t the arena she liked to be in for her battles. One she couldn’t find a way out of. Though it was all too typical for her and Dominic, curse of him knowing her too well. He, more than anyone else, never let her get away with anything. Which certainly had some positives of course, even she could admit that, but right now she was seeing a lot of negatives.
She leaned towards him, putting the vodka bottle down rather harshly on her desk before standing back up - her arms folded defensively over her chest. “Why can’t you just trust me for once?” She questioned, eyebrow raised, “Why do I have to always prove everything to you, like I’m a fucking child.” At this point, she’d say almost anything to avoid showing him her neck.
--
Deep breath. "Because you're acting like 'a fucking child'," he said more evenly. "You're hiding, avoiding, lying badly, and clearly making..." There was a loud crumple as his fist suddenly clenched over the bit of takeout. But his face managed to remain the same. "Self destructive choices. Again." After all it took to try and curb that some it clearly hadn't been enough. For all he knew they were nearly back at square one, tomorrow she could bolt and disappear all over again.
--
Well, he wasn’t wrong. She knew he wasn’t wrong. She was hiding - though that was for the sake of her own sanity and maybe the literal life (depending on your definition) of someone else. She was avoiding, oh absolutely. She was lying - she would argue against badly, but perhaps that was semantics. And she would absolutely argue against self-destructive, she was being impulsive again at worst. Coincidentally, her impulsive decision had given her advice she was currently… ignoring. Advice Dominic would actually agree with. “Not being self-destructive.” She said, wetting her lips in frustration, “You just always overreact. Something negative always has to be going on.” She gave him a well practiced glare. At least he’d shut up about proving it.
--
“Because you've given every indication that there is something going on. It's red flags all over the place, I'm not going to ignore them Izzy.” Maybe not as many red flags actually there as he was seeing, maybe she was right in that he did tend to overreact a bit but in his mind that didn't mean there was nothing concerning behind her actions. “So... Show. Me. Your. Neck.” His frown deepened and he gritted his teeth again, telling himself to keep it together in the face of her avoiding answering.
--
“Have you even stopped to fucking consider that this is about you?” She said, arching an eyebrow as she motioned to herself. She was going to avoid that command for as long as possible. “I can’t fucking talk to you any more. Its not even possible. If you even think I might have done something out of your comfort zone you lash right the fuck out at me.” She said, pursing her lips together in frustration. As much as this was a distraction away from his demands - it was also the honest truth. She couldn’t be honest with him, she knew there was no way he was going to take it any way other than exactly how he was right now. With anger, suspicion, and demands that she was just being destructive again. “Everything, everything is a lecture or a threat or a chastising. We don’t have conversations. You just talk at me.” She rolled her eyes. “Lets just chalk it all up to how big a disappointment Isolde is, again, and call it a day.”
--
“Me. That's how you want to deflect this? Pinning it on me?” It wasn't like he hadn't wondered if he was partly to blame for her impulsive and self-destructive behavior. Maybe he'd given her too much space and leniency. “We don't have conversations because you refuse to even attempt one. Unless you plan on starting one now and surprising me.”
--
She swallowed hard, “I’m not deflecting just because its not the answer you’re demanding. Its still the truth.” She noted. She didn’t like that she couldn’t talk to him, she really didn’t. She didn’t like that their conversations ended up like this each time. But she always felt like he was just trying to put a leash on her now and she couldn’t shake it off. He wouldn’t understand anyway, he just saw things differently than her. “I told you something honest.” She sniped, “I don’t feel like I can talk to you because all you do is fucking judge everything I do with a tiny little microscope.” She breathed out harshly, “You don’t get the whole truth because I can’t give it to you any more.”
--
“Were you ever really one to give it?” A fair question he thought. Getting the truth out of her was too often like pulling teeth. Dom sighed. “Do you ever think I judge because too often you need some more judgement when it comes to the decisions you make?”
--
“Yeah well, I just tried to be and its clearly not fucking getting me anywhere.” She said in a huff. She used to be much more truthful with him at least, not their parents, but at least with him. But she wouldn’t deny, internally, that that had definitely changed when they got older and her acting out was more than just on hunts - though, especially after Stefan. “Some things just don’t get your judgement call. You don’t have a right. Especially since you don’t exactly have a vision beyond black and white.” She stared at him, “We’re not hunters any more, we left.” Perhaps a bit blunt, but it was true too.
--
“You haven't told me anything, you want me to trust you but give me no reason to and plenty to worry.” It was better than when he first dragged her home, but it was still far from being able to trust her decisions would be at the very least not overly self destructive. “I think letting yourself be bitten multiple times by whatever supernatural tends to not fall into that grey area you love so much.”
--
She rolled her eyes again, “I did tell you something, something very hard for me to admit to. But yet again, not what you wanted to hear so it doesn’t fucking matter.” All he cared about was being proven right or wrong, it didn’t seem to matter to him that the situation was a little more… nuanced than could be easily explained. Between not feeling like she could talk to him, the magic incident or whatever it was, and knowing it would never fall into a grey area he just didn’t have, bites or not - she didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah, well, its not why I’m drinking - so maybe actually give it more than a few days before you come in here spitting hellfire at me.” Confusion alone may have done a bit, but not gotten her to this point. No, that did have a lot more to do with Dominic’s presence. The lack of breathing room, the anxiety of knowing this exact conversation would happen, she didn’t deal well with being in corners.
--
Dominic sighed again, he felt like he was doing a lot of sighing in this conversation, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not here to spit hellfire at you Izzy. I’m here to help you and see how you’re doing. Can’t you understand that coming here and having you lock the door on me, avoid me, and keep me out, only to find you drinking and….bitten when I finally do see you is more than worrisome? You’re throwing every red flag at me you possibly can. You want me to leave you be and wait until i have a literal trail of blood to follow to you? You’re not looking out for yourself so far.” Which only meant that someone had to do it for her. It wasn’t the greatest job to have but Dominic felt it was his responsibility to take it on. Their father couldn’t be trusted with it and Iz had always erred on the reckless side so someone had to watch out for her, it had to be him.
--
She gulped hard. Izzy could feel her anxiety levels rising and she didn’t like that. She never liked the feeling of anxiousness in her chest. The way it tugged at her and made it hard to breathe. It was a root symptom of a lot of her more destructive habits. “I don’t need your help right now.” She said, looking him straight in the face - something she could only pull off by anger at the moment. That sort of direct eye to eye contact was also, often, a bit no-no in her books. “You have no idea what I have or haven’t done. You really don’t. And I’ll repeat myself, its none of your fucking business. You don’t get to just show up and take away my…” She waved a hand flippantly, “Personal space. You don’t get to just show up and act like you have any right to make demands on me. You just showed up. But again, let’s just chalk it up to me being a huge disappointment and move on because, clearly this isn’t going anywhere.” She looked away, the frustration clear on her features.
--
A large part of him wanted to give in to the anger and annoyance at her and storm out, but it'd be losing his cool entirely and giving her exactly what she wanted and expected. Why did he feel like he constantly had to reign all of that emotion back more than he'd had to before? Was it just her acting out more or his own issues?
"Izzy, you're not a disappointment, you're...you do your own thing. And too often that means screw anyone who worries. I don't want to take away your personal space, but I want to at least be a part of your life in general and not have to break my way into it every time you do something..." He gestured rather aimlessly, still quietly boiling underneath at the bites but not wanting to vocalize it again. "Self-destructive. So if you want your space give me some leeway at least, because not talking and shutting me out is one of those self-destructive decisions."
--
Part of Isolde really wished he would have just walked out right then. Part of her wished she could elicit that sort of response from her brother, justify that he could become unhinged too. But it was always a moot point - no matter how hard she tried. Dominic just had a level of control that she would never really fully appreciate or understand. It frustrated her to no end. It didn’t help that a nagging part of her knew he was right. She didn’t particularly keep in mind how the blowback of her actions effected others. Perks of ‘living in the moment’.
She kept her eyes away from him, “Picking my lock isn’t a great way to prove you’re not here to slap a metaphorical fucking ankle bracelet on me.” She said, her frustration evident in her tone - even when she glanced back to him for a second her whole body read that emotion. She turned and tilted her head to properly look back at him, after a moment of silence, her eyes giving a subtle roll. “Fine, fucking enlighten me then Dominic.” She said, a harshness to her voice, “What sort of leeway is it you want. What the fuck is it you want.” Her statement wasn’t a question, so much as it was a demand for answers.
--
It was tough holding back the comment that just transferring here was the tamest option he’d gone with. Dragging her back home from abroad and living there with her had been a bigger step up. Here at least she had a separate building and didn’t share walls with him, as far as Dominic was concerned that was a big enough step away from him for now.
“I want you to actually open the door to me for a start, I really wouldn’t call that too much to ask. And talk to me once in a while so I don’t find out shit like this-” He waved the offending scrap of chinese takout. “From your floor. If something is wrong or going on with you, try and tell me at least. And if you can stand me long enough past that I’d like to actually get to just...who knows, sit down and eat or do something normal once a week so it’s not me uselessly lecturing at you every time we talk. Is that not reasonable Izzy?” Because fuck, getting mad and lecturing her constantly was awful and tiring for him too, but lately it seemed to be all he did. FInd her making bad decisions and trying not to utterly yell at her for them. It’d be a lot to expect them to be anything like what they once were but he liked to think if maybe he could reign her in, keep her safe and from a fate like Stefan’s, that it would all fall back together.
--
There was a lot she wanted to say. Part of her wanted to keep arguing, keep denying everything, keep pushing that she couldn't talk to him. That was more the vodka speaking than anything else - she wasn't always combative, but it wasn't a rare habit for her either by any stretch. She was wishing she'd had another swig though. She didn't like the way any of this felt in her chest.
Any other day she may have been okay with or even happy for his honesty, right now if messed with the pit of her stomach and it made her uncomfortable. There was no way to tell him what was going on or not going on, even if she had had a clear idea of what. She could explain the bites, sure. But there was no real conversation to be had on the matter, she didn't trust him on that much at the very least. “Fine.” She said, still rather rigid in her stance. She fought back the urge to say nothing was going on. Fought back an inclination to demand he try and see things as destructive less frequently. But she kept her mouth shut for once. Somehow this conversation was making her feel farther away from him than a continent and an ocean had.
--
Take the victory, he told himself. The ever so minor victory but a ‘fine’ was better than the same argument again. Dominic nodded once and stood up, telling him this was a step forward even if it didn’t feel like one. “Good. Friday, dinner, you tell me about your week and fill me in on what I need to know around here.” It was an attempt at least of a normal conversation later in the week. Maybe that’d give her enough time and space, not too much space was the key.
Dominic took a step towards the door and paused, holding up the scrap of takeout. “And Izzy? Deal with and fix this before I have to.” He pocketed the paper with a sigh and headed to the door. He’d need some cooling off after this too. “See you Friday.”
--
Dinner, like a normal family. As if that was somehow in the realm of possibility for them. Even the notion of having some sort of weird, planned dinner with her brother seemed foreign to her. But she wasn’t in a position to argue it. She knew that much - she knew she got off damn lucky that he dropped all of his demands about proving it and even more so that he never questioned who. She felt like an idiot enough as it were, leaving the stupid note in her office like that. She could suppose that’s what she got for drinking her problems, but that was just another thought to push away with plenty of others. No fire to see here people, move along.
Isolde watched as he got up to leave, waving at him dismissively rather than responding - there was no reason to point out that she was fairly sure his version of dealing with it and her’s were wildly different. Nor that she really had no intention of ‘fixing it’ in any way she figured he meant. “Friday, whatever.” She mumbled quietly as she slunk down into her office chair - opening the bottle of vodka to take a well earned swig, well it could have gone worse. She still had a head.