seveninchmotto | Robert Lightwood's House, Alicante, Idris, Saturday

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Robert Lightwood's House, Alicante, Idris, Saturday

For something Isabelle genuinely wanted to do, this had been kind of an ordeal. No one had actually opposed to her declaration that she was going to start splitting her time between Idris and New York a little more evenly. But moving in with her father, as a reality? He was awkward about it, at best – even if it was in his own, gruffly restrained way. It didn't help that she was altogether unsure about how well this would go, and whether she even wanted it to go in a way that wasn't a complete disaster.

She still had in her the desire to punish him for everything he'd done wrong, after all. All the pain he'd caused her mother. All the pain he'd caused her. It wasn't close to the surface these days, but was that just because she'd made sure to stay away from him as much as she could?

So... Things were going to be interesting.

But today was Isabelle's move-in day, and so far, things had gone okay. She'd brought a full trunk and a few bags' worth of things from New York (still managing to leave her and Flick's apartment looking like she'd taken nothing at all with her, a true testament to how much stuff there was), her father had greeted her and shown her the right room, then they'd stood awkwardly in the middle of it until he'd excused himself to go take care of some official business or other.

It hadn't gone perfectly, but about as well as Isabelle would've expected it to. And now, she was doing what she did best: decorating the room. It was a fine room, on the second floor, far enough from her father's main quarters downstairs that she wouldn't feel like she was living right under his nose. There was a large window with a view of the hustle and bustle of the street below. But so far, the room did not look lived in.

Isabelle was about to change that.

[ooc: NFB, for the boy because no one else can actually reach this country, whoops.]

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Flick had not actually expected Isabelle to agree to splitting time in Idris. She seemed pretty rooted to New York so when she'd told him of her plan, he'd been wary at first until she'd reassured him that this was something she wanted to do.

So, he was going to help her, at least. He didn't really want to deal with her dad but he'd be civil enough for Isabelle. Once he'd finished up at the Academy for the day, he found his way to her father's house with the help of some teachers from the Academy.

Now, he was at the front door, feeling out of place, and knocking quickly.

Caught up in fluffing up a pillow, it took Isabelle a moment to pay any attention to the sound as it carried through the house. Or possibly through the window she had cracked open. Once she'd noticed, though, she put the pillow down on the bed and went to push the window further open so she could poke her head out and peer down.

She was grinning as soon as she saw who it was.

"Well hello there!" she called down, waving.

Flick looked around and then looked up when he realized where the voice was coming from. He waved up at her and smiled.

"Hey," he greeted. "Having a good time?"

"I'm making the room look like me!"

That was a yes, by the way. He probably knew that.

But she wasn't going to make him stand out on the street for too long. "Wait there, I'll come and get you!"

"Please do," Flick said, shooting more looks around the area. No one seemed to be coming at him with pitchforks but still. He'd feel more comfortable when he was inside and away from judgmental eyes.

Well. Some people were likely to give him a little side-eye, if they noticed he wasn't strictly speaking one of them. But things were changing. His was the first class with mundane-born students to get the right to come to the city. They'd get used to him.

But Isabelle didn't keep him waiting for long enough for that to happen. It took a minute or two before the heavy door opened in front of him, and she was leaning against the door frame, smiling at him.

"Hey, baby."

Flick brightened at seeing her and stepped closer to kiss her cheek.

"Hello, you," he said, staying close once he'd kissed her in greeting. "Do I get to come in? I'm pretty sure some of these people are going to set me on fire with their eyes."

"They're just curious," Isabelle replied, even if that probably wasn't the case with all of them. She took his hand, pulling him into the house. "That's not why I want you to come in."

"Or they don't like me," he suggested, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He was instantly on alert for her father. "Why'd you want me to come in?"

Her father had actually left some time ago to go deal with some Inquisitor business. But it would've been too nice to tell him that right off the bat.

"So I can do this," she said, and moved to give him a proper kiss hello.

Flick leaned into the kiss, wrapping one arm around her but he was still a little stiff and distracted since he didn't know if her father was going to come walking in at any second.

Isabelle snickered against his mouth, like the mischievous brat she was. She nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away and taking his hand.

"Come on," she said. "Let me show you the room."

"You really going to not tell me about the elephant in the room?" Flick asked, tangling his fingers with hers and following behind her.

"If you mean the small porcelain one we got from the Mumbai Institute, I think Mom kept that," Isabelle quipped, as she pulled him along through the house and to the stairs.

It was an impressive-looking house. Fit for an Inquisitor, all dark wood and nothing modern in sight.

"Isabelle, is your father waiting around some corner to pounce?" Flick asked, just out and out asking her. "Am I doomed to his glare?"

Isabelle stopped at the foot of the stairs.

And stepped closer to him.

And, smirking, reached around and gave his ass a smack.

"He's out on business."

"You're a horrible person," Flick said, leaning forward to try and bite her lip. "A terrible horrible person."

Isabelle let him, even though she was quietly chuckling. "Why?"

She patted his ass before kneading it a little.

Flick shook his head at her and laughed. "Because you let me twist in the wind for a few minutes longer than I should have. Touching my ass won't solve it."

"I wasn't trying to solve anything," she retorted, pulling the hand in question back because she wanted to resume pulling him along. This time, up the impressive stairway. "I was just groping you."

"Terrible person," he continued, following along and plotting his revenge. "This is a big house."

"I guess someone as important as my dad needs his space," Isabelle replied with a shrug, heading up, her hand in his. "I don't think he'll be back before dinnertime. I'm not sure he even has real business right now."

Lightwoods liked avoiding each other sometimes.

"Mmm." Flick nodded, not at all upset by not seeing her father tonight or for awhile. "How's it all going? You and him?"

"We've been in the same space for all of ten minutes today," she replied, casting a glance back at him over her shoulder. It was a little on the wry side. "So as far as I'm concerned, it's going great."

"I more meant the whole getting to this point," Flick explained to her. "I'm sure you had to have a conversation about this before you moved in."

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