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Saint James Paris Hotel, Paris, Sunday
Nov. 25th, 2018 09:15 pmSo, Isabelle Lightwood was a married woman. At least according to the customs of the mundane world.
And more importantly -- okay, maybe not more importantly, but pretty importantly all the same, she was a married woman who was yet to have a proper honeymoon. Oh, sure, they'd had those few days in Vegas, but they'd also had Beth around for most of it. And while Isabelle loved Flick's mother from the bottom of her heart, it didn't really make for what her understanding of a real honeymoon was.
And then she'd had to go back to New York and Flick had had to return to the Academy, cutting their married bliss short.
But, now, almost two whole months later, they'd managed to find a few days' worth of time to actually see each other (because there was nothing like starting a marriage with almost two months of not being able to meet at all), and Isabelle had jumped at the chance to just go and whisk Flick away to somewhere far away.
So here they were, in Paris, at an exceedingly fancy hotel, entering not their room but their own private three-story villa because Isabelle didn't do things in half-measures, and also because she'd somehow scored a very good deal, because sometimes she was very, very lucky.
And if her wide-eyed looks around were anything to go by, she at least approved of her choice, herself."Oh it's so pretty."
[ooc: NFB, for the husband, what. And also massively massive SP.]
And more importantly -- okay, maybe not more importantly, but pretty importantly all the same, she was a married woman who was yet to have a proper honeymoon. Oh, sure, they'd had those few days in Vegas, but they'd also had Beth around for most of it. And while Isabelle loved Flick's mother from the bottom of her heart, it didn't really make for what her understanding of a real honeymoon was.
And then she'd had to go back to New York and Flick had had to return to the Academy, cutting their married bliss short.
But, now, almost two whole months later, they'd managed to find a few days' worth of time to actually see each other (because there was nothing like starting a marriage with almost two months of not being able to meet at all), and Isabelle had jumped at the chance to just go and whisk Flick away to somewhere far away.
So here they were, in Paris, at an exceedingly fancy hotel, entering not their room but their own private three-story villa because Isabelle didn't do things in half-measures, and also because she'd somehow scored a very good deal, because sometimes she was very, very lucky.
And if her wide-eyed looks around were anything to go by, she at least approved of her choice, herself."Oh it's so pretty."
[ooc: NFB, for the husband, what. And also massively massive SP.]
