let's play ! isabelle

[ray3]

It was a new record. He had only been out of this place for three weeks. And so much had happened. There had been countless murders, disturbances in the night, a triple-kidnap, and he was just everywhere. Sethos was back, where he belonged, so some people say. He was sitting alone in his dark, crammed cell. Way underground of Azkaban prison. He could hear the wailing of the other, more sane prosoners losing their hope. He could sense that they were losing it. Their minds were slowly unravelling, exposed to the world. Becoming less human, mutated. Damaged. Sethos sighed and shook his head, glancing down to his spread out legs, and saw his socks. Bright striped rainbow socks. He chuckled in his throat before glancing to the small light source in his cell. He saw neighbouring cells that were dead. People were there, but they couldn't move. Probably forgot how to. Poor men. Sethos glanced left and right, trying to see something that would catch his eye. His tounge twitched, flicking out his mouth and licking the torn part of his face. His scars that gave him his permanent grin. He frowned as he began to think. Really think. He had made up stories as to how he got those scars. He could never really remember his life before insanity. It must have been dull. But one story he'd thought he'd made up stayed in his mind. He closed his eyes and thought hard.

He sighed as he thought more of this possibly true memory. Love was a bit of a mess. A bit like insanity. Unbearable, uncontrollable, unforgettable. Sethos' mouth curled up in half a smile and he raised his head so it would lean against the wall. He smacked his lips together and began to hum a tune. Entirely made up. Like his past. His eyes flashed open to a door creaking open. Sethos' heart thudded. He was waiting for someone. Someone he had grown very fond of. He would never really take an interest into anyone who would try to help him, but this person was different. She seemed to know him pretty well. No-one else had worked him out quite as much as she had. So Sethos turned his head to the opened door and waited, hoping to see that slender feminine figure..

[nina02]

He was back.

Three weeks, twenty one days, five hundred and four hours. That’s all it took to throw the wizarding world spiralling out of control, jaunting it into the arms of darkness, fear and terror. How could one human being cause so much chaos in so little time? The death raise had been at an all time high, especially with wizards and witches falling left and right, and with people missing everyday. Horror and trepidation had filled the hearts of many, the streets had not been safe to walk through for the last twenty one days, even in the comfort of their own home, people weren’t safe. They could never truly be protected with an infamous, insane killer on the loose. Foolish people had believed they could take down this mass murder, only to be found as the victims of a massacre only a mentally insane person could possibly be behind. However, he wasn’t so loose anymore. Almost immediately after the capture of the notorious criminal, new releases at press and the daily prophet had printed over a thousand copies to scatter all over wizarding England to announce the capture of Sethos. Three weeks the wizarding community had to live in terror, wizards refusing to leave the comfort zone of their own unprotected homes while a mad man roamed the streets like nothing in the world mattered, only his amusement at others expense. Now her darling Sethos was back…

Pushing the glasses to prop on the bridge of her nose, Isabelle Martins walked at a steady pace through Azkaban prison. A place she had been countless of times before. As she continued to walk, the agonizing screams that filled her ears increased in volume. Once there had been a time when the excruciating screams and squeals effected her, haunted her. They replayed in her mind over, and over again. Now, that time had passed. The only thing that occupied her mind constantly was Sethos, his voice, eyes, scars…everything. Upon hearing the news of Sethos imprisonment, Isabelle had made it her mission to pay her dear a small visit, and after pulling a few strings, she had accomplished it within the hour. Oh how her heart yearned to see him once again. Picking up her pace, the echo’s of her heels faded out the pleas and cries for help. It was only when she made her way underground, where the A-list criminals resided, that the only thing to be heard was the faint sound of familiar humming.

Pushing the door open, the pace of her fragile heart increased drastically. Slipping inside the room, Isabelle ran a hand over her winter white blouse and black pencil skirt, here they where once again. The cerulean blue eyes roamed her surroundings before quickly falling onto the familiar figure. “I see you’ve decided to pay us another visit. Glad to have you back.” Isabelle realized how formal she needed to be, this wasn’t just a visit for her own personal reasons, it was her job to. The room was very confined and enclosed, in attempt to keep whatever lay inside, to remain locked there. Taking a seat facing Sethos, Belle looked at him and crossed one slender leg over the other. “I’m aware a lot has happened since our last meeting. Kidnapping and murdering various people I see.” She began raising a brow in attempt to act the least bit surprised, “Why don‘t you tell me about it.” Professional was the only way she could get through to him.

[ray3]

He was beginning to get a little bit tired. He found himself blinking a lot more rapily to try and keep them open, and his head was bobbing down and up. He yawned and rubbed his forehead. He looked at his fingertips and noticed the white paint. Oh. He'd forgotten all about the paste that masked his pores. He very much disliked it, but there were perks. People recognised him from it. It was something like his trademark. And he even frightened himself once, on falling asleep next to a mirrir, and then waking up to find his reflection glaring into his face. He'd definately become wide awake that evening. And so, to stop himself from falling into slumber, he stood up and sat on what seemed like his bed. But all it really was was a long plank of wood, with some material thrown over it. Not even a pillow. Sethos never really liked the way these people treated him, even if they claimed to be helping him. None of them really helped. Having said that, a face appeared in his mind. A pretty blonde youth. Oh yes. How could he forget Doctor Martines? How indeed? She was the only person who seemed to be treating him as if he were a real human being, with real human being feelings and all. And then his eyes shot over to the clock on the wall. She should be here by now.

Sethos knew what the doctor was trying to do. But he knew that it was more than just a professional relationship. He knew she was drawn to him, weather it be by his mind or by his apperance, he didn't know, nor did he care. He actually quite enjoyed her company aswell. And then the picture in his mind seemed to come to life. There she was. In her uniform. He raised an eyebrow, as if reading her, but that was just his way of inviting her in. She sat down and didn't even let him say hello. Maybe he'd crossed the line this time. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. And anyway, he didn't want a woman who was all work and no play.

“I see you’ve decided to pay us another visit. Glad to have you back.”

Sethos scoffed. He turned his head away from her, not meeting her lovely blue eyes. "Of course you are .." he murmured with a croaking voice. And then she babbled on about those murders. Of course he knew about them. It was he who had done it. But his permanent smile tured distorted as his own lips stretched into a smile. It felt like she was watching what he was doing. He knew this wasn't the case, but he just liked to fool around, even if she didn't know he was. And then as Sethos began to butt in, she beat him to it again. What a pair they were. "Well I suppose a few of them didn't need to die, but hell, everyone dies some day ... I just elped them outta their misery. Who would want to live in a world where I exist, huh?" And then he leaned backwards against the hard wall and winked at the doctor.

[nina02]

"a world that didn't contain so many bruises. But maybe a few. They were addictive, like his kiss."

The moment she stepped through the doors, she entered Setho’s world. No longer could she consider herself an average citizen of the wizarding world. To be able to know him, she had to explore his world, to enter his mind, to think just like him. He was an unsolved mystery, a jigsaw without it’s pieces and worst of all, every single thing about him lured Isabelle right in. There was many things she had yet to realize, and although people where positive that the time she spent with Setho’s wasn’t particularly wise and an utter waste of time, resulting in Isabelle being shown in an unsatisfactory light to her other colleges. Had they discovered the things she had? Had they been the ones to find the courage to take on such an infamous criminal? Had they been the ones to fall head over heels for him? No, because they just didn’t see him the way she did. Upon meeting Setho’s she had been blind, but he had given her the opportunity to see again, only in a new light. Belle would have liked to believe that he’d opened up, showed her the side of him no one could brand as ‘crazy’ because he wasn’t crazy, just different. This world didn’t take well to different, what was different wasn’t right, that was how people saw it. That was why Isabelle wanted to know him, because to her, he was a beautiful kind of different.

”You‘re crazy.” Isabelle Martins‘ scoffed looking at the head of the physiatrist unit, “No he’s crazy!” The older male said, shaking his head in defeat. “Belle look at the destruction he has caused to this world. People are terrified to leave the safety of their homes because of…freaks like that. Some men just like to watch the world burn.” As the words escaped his lips, Isabelle‘s cornflower blue eyes narrowed. The terms crazy and freaks where used far too loosely around here. They where professionals, their job was to diagnosis people, get to know them and understand their case. The fact that no one wanted to hear Setho‘s case only invited Belle in. The danger trailed her in. “All I ask is that you extend the time I have with him. I really do feel like I‘m getting somewhere.” Isabelle managed to say, trying not to plead. She knew what he thought, Setho‘s was just a case that was best forgotten about, but how could she forget him? With a sigh, “Fine.” If only he knew was he was agreeing to.

The crystal blue eyes shone brightly at the sound of his voice, even glancing at him sent shivers up her spine. He was beautiful in his own way, each of his scars held a story, some of which Setho’s had willingly spoke of, whether they held truth or not was beyond Belle, but that didn’t stop her from listening and wanting to hear what he had to say. Like now, he spoke of the people that he had murdered, and then winked. It was an instant reaction for her cheeks to burn bright and a small grin crawled onto her lips. “What drives you to kill them? What pleasure or satisfaction does it give you to see a person crumble before you?” Wasn’t that strange? Isabelle had let the guard go immediately, indicating that she trusted him more than it would seem. The questions she asked where on a much more personal level, they weren’t being asked because it was her job, they where being asked because of the curiosity that burned inside her. He could tell her how it really felt, he could show her what she wanted.

[ray3]

He looked down at his pale hands. Half of his nails were missing. He'd been biting and ripping them off. He hadn't felt much physical pain in a few days. It hurt him more than the Cruciatus Curse. He preferred torture on himself, not that he thought he deserved it or that he should atone for his sins, it was just to prove that yes, he still lived and felt pain like eveyone else. And he'd felt pain like no other, not just physical, mental and emotional. No-one really knew what kind of a man he really was. No-one knew of his past. Nor did he, but he had a vague idea, or maybe theories, or just funny stories he'd made up to make his past seem to fit with his life now. But no-one seemed to want to know. Sethos would have told his story like a perfect gentleman, he would've sat with tea and biscuits, and chatted away about his dismul and blurred past. He couldn't even remember his real name, it was why he'd taken to choosing many names for himself that, again, fitted himself today. But there now was someone that listened to him talk. She wanted to know. She spent more time with him than any other of these so-called 'professionals'. They were useless. No talent or skills to use on Sethos. A waste of flesh and oxygen. Well, there was a nother bunch of people on his 'To-Die' list. But one stood out. She was like a ray of sunshine to Sethos. She had lovely light hair, an angel's face and a soft twinkling voice. She didn't belong here, and yet, here she was once again. Sethos liked her company. She seemed to understand a few streaks of his multi-personality. She was the only one that paid any respect or attention to him while he stayed in this hell hole asylum.

He watched her and knew from the moment she entered the same room as him, that she was trying to stay professional about the whole thing. But Sethos could see it all. He could see that all her gestures and questions were from her, not from what anyone told her to do. This wasn't part of her training, Sethos just knew she was interested in him, and he'd won her over many, many times. But not yet had they shared anything that Sethos could really recall. Up until now, Isabelle was doing really well. Asking questions, listening to his answers, and nodding as if agreeing with him. Sometimes Sethos thought she actually did agree with his opinions. He'd caught her out more than once. And now, here she was, doing it again. After Sethos gestured his flirty, charming self, she blushed and smiled. Sethos couldn't help but smirk back at her. Two minutes and already he was getting into her.

“What drives you to kill them? What pleasure or satisfaction does it give you to see a person crumble before you?”

Sethos cracked every knuckle in his fingers and stretched his arms out before him, grunting as he pulled them back, and dropped them back into his lap. he looked at his purple suit trousers, slightly stained with blood and dirt. No-one had tried to change him into the inmate uniform. Sethos didn't really want to anyway. Hideous colours, they'd never go with his eyes, nor his hair. He shrugged to Belle and closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to think of a decent, truthful, yet plesant answer. "Well I don't really mean to kill them, they just foolishly get in my way," he lied sucessfully, "..but I guess it's my wicked sense of humor. No-one else thinks it's really funny though. I want to stand out, step out from the crowd, you'll know what that's like, huh, toots?" He looked ather and paused for a moment, eyeing her closely, wondering what she thought of it all. And then he stood up, glancing to her before sitting on the seat opposite her. Only a table was between them, but a table hadn't stopped Sethos before. Never. He rested his arms on the flat surface and looked into her face, "But let's do something different, let's talk about you. I'm tired of my voice." And then he smiled to her, trying to look as innocent and as friendly as possible, but those two scars on the sides of his face seemed to destroy that. There was never any real need to smile. He always was and always will.

[nina02]

As complex as it sounded, especially coming from a physiologist like herself, Isabelle was aware she would never fully understand the nature of Sethos. No matter how deep she dug, no matter how much he shared, he would never fully knock down the barrier of security. He could only trust himself and him alone. The people in this world weren’t worthy of the trust, trust meant very little to people, but it meant a lot to Sethos. Broken trust could bring him crashing down and he’d parish. Now why on earth would he depend on anyone else? He was a one man circus, quite literally, with the whole clown facial paints going for him. However, each visit she made came with the effort of learning something new, removing another layer, taking the risk and moving a step closer. How close could she get? How far would he let her in? Each day came with a new pondering thought, every thought revolved around him, and although she had yet become obvious to the fact, that Sethos was quickly becoming the main priority in her life. Soon enough he would be her life, every waking moment she would stand by him, supporting him, loving him, just like she knew she was meant to. Right now, the time just wasn’t right, but eventually it would dawn on her and she’d be jaunted into his arms. Wasn’t that the way things where meant to be?

She’d allow the world to judge them because quite frankly, they just didn’t understand. No one understood. At some degree it was wrong, it was like a professor and student relationship, but that made her question, who was the teacher and who was the student? It was her that recalled every action, every word, every breath he took, he was quickly becoming one of the most intriguing people she had ever crossed paths with. In the end she would be the one leaving, and he would stay, or would he? Sethos had escaped this dreaded place before, what’s stopping him now? Despite the fact that he was caged like an animal, but with a little help he could be free again, cause the beautiful mayhem that he was so infamous for committing. What was she thinking? Was she really considering helping him? No…that would be so foolish of her, she’d give up everything…but Sethos was everything.

Belle’s eyes where glued to him, they didn’t stray, they couldn’t pull away from the vision that captured her right from the very beginning. Already she had devoted herself to him. He wasn’t the lost cause everyone predicted him to be, he was magnificent, just misunderstood. It was a shame she could only see it, could only revel in the time she had spent with him. To think, the man she spends the majority of her work-time with was the reason why there was so much chaos in the wizarding world right now, but Belle had always liked chaos. Why? Because it was fair. The familiar voice spoke out, giving her the answers that she needed. Resting her hands on the table, the pen moved back and fourth through her fingers absentmindedly. They just got in his way…wasn’t that what most murders would say. Disappointment washed over her, but only for a split second before Sethos continued. “I do believe you’ve successfully stood out. You’re a pretty popular man Sethos. People would kill to be you.” Okay, so lame attempt of a joke, but hey, she had to throw it out there. The corner’s of her lips curled ever so slightly. Popular didn’t cover it, yes he was given bad publicity, but nevertheless, publicity was publicity. Tilting her head softly as he asked about her, Belle decided to be open with him, like he had been with her, to get you had to give, right? “I don’t see what you’d want to know. I’ve grown up here, lived a pretty happy childhood, I attended Hogwarts and while I was there I’d been violated and raped…” Looking down at her clenched fists, she realized she was burning up once again, this time because of the anger that pumped through her veins. The years of pain and resentment was on the verge of tumbling out, but she held it together. “It was after that I realized I wanted to be a Psychologist, I wanted to know why people commit to things such as rape and murder. I just crave the knowledge to know. That is why I’m here today, with you.” Belle managed to finish, forcing a small smile onto her lips, her eyes still beaming at him.

[ray3]

He had been close to her, but never had he been this close. He would never have sat on a chair infront of any other person. So why her? Why Belle? Sethos wondered if it was because she was unmissably beautiful, or if she just had a mysterious, yet luring attitude towards Sethos. Was she doing it on purpose? Who knows? But Sethos didn't really care, because he liked it. Not just it, he liked her. She was the only doctor that had come back since their first meeting with him. No-one else wanted to be in a room with him. He seemed to make an impression that he'd kill anyone within spitting distance of him. That wasn't entirely true. In the past though, he had killed another inmate. But he was yelling and screaming to be let out of the 'cage' as he called it. Sethos was becoming more and more irritated as the days rolled by. He was missing out on sleep, which was the only real place he could get some shut eye. And eventually, the old man had to be silenced. No-one really knew how he'd died, but wizards investigated and came to the conclusion that he'd just slit his own throat. How could anyone gain access into a cell without a key, or ability to use magic? Well Sethos had sucessfully done it. But it wasn't of much significance to Sethos. He saw that man as just a pesky fly that needed to be squished. And he murdered as easily as doing just that. Sethos only killed if he had a particular dislike to someone. If they'd pissed him off. Sometimes he killed because he had a liking to someone. They distracted him, and so, had to be taken care of. But why wasn't Sethos getting rid of Belle like he'd done with so many other women? It was baffling, but Sethos never wondered for too long. He stopped trying to figure out the riddles a long time ago, and learned to just accept that Belle was special. She was a treat for the eyes, but also the ears. She had such a lovely, sweet voice. It was better than a lullabye. Heck, Belle's voice was his lullabye. Their meetings would more or less end when Sethos would doze into unconsciousness, but this evening, he was not feeling sleepy, and this time, he'd watch her leave. If she ever did.

Sethos had been showing his liking for Belle a bit too much these past few weeks. He was complimenting her, making her laugh, telling her about his past, and strangely, he wanted to know about her. He shuffled his chair as close as it would go, and he felt his stomach coming into contact with the cold table. He began to think. Would Belle be a good accomplace? Sethos had never worked with anyone but himself. It might be a good change from working alone. Belle seemed to have the guts for it. She was strong, healthy. And Sethos wouldn't mind seeing her face often. It was just the small detail of her sanity. But Sethos knew he had her. She was coming more frequently. He saw her every day now, and there were never any unhappy moments, well, maybe a few times, with expressing his lied about childhood. Sethos never really could remember what he was like as a child, but would like to meet him. If he ever got his hands on a time-turner, he'd venture back, to see if his insanity was something he was born with. He'd hoped not. That's boring. He hoped that there was a cause for him losing it, and becoming the man he is now. That's why he'd made up so many stories, that could be possibly true. One atleast had to be right. He licked his dry lips as Belle began talking. He'd never learned about the woman she really was. He knew the bare minimum, and wanted to know more. Sethos raised his eyebrows in shock. Raped? Sethos was clearly dumstruck. His eyes stared wide at her for a good few beats. How sad ... Poor Belle. No! Did he really think that? Was he actually pitying this girl? He frowned at himself at this newfound feeling he had for Belle, and he glanced away to the darkness, but then back as he saw her looking up again. He watched as a smile stretched onto her face. Sethos didn't smile back to her. He was silent for a while, but then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of playing cards. "Let's play a game ..." and he fanned out the cards over the table infront of her. He smiled to her, "I don't know any games though," and he chuckled, leaning back on his chair before leaning forward again and looking dead straight into her glorious eyes.

[nina02]

The fragile heart thudded against her chest, while the familiar cerulean blue eyes examined every movement he made. She even watched his chest rise and fall, evidence that he was human, that he was capable of loving and feeling. It was strange to use the terms love and Sethos in the same sentence, but nevertheless, Belle believed it to be true. She needed it to be true. Yes, as unprofessional as it sounded, Isabelle Martins had fallen in love with her patient. While others thought Sethos was vile, psychopathic, a monster, Belle looked past the face paints, the scars, and she seen something beautiful. It was the very reason why she sat there, knowing that any moment he could leap for her, and despite how an onlooker may see it, Sethos had the upper hand, he always had. Every second she spent with him, her life was in danger, but she risked it all and threw caution to the wind just because love had controlled her completely. At times she felt like a puppet on a string when Sethos charm washed over her, however, that was how love went, right? There had been times when he’d doze off, and Belle would sit there just watching, amazed at how people could fear something so beautiful and fascinating.

Belle too, leaned forward, only for the table to hold her back, like a barrier. The wave of disappointed fell over her, but the urge to reach out and touch him still tugged at her. All the time that they had spent together in this tiny room, not once had Belle got too close, nor had she ever touched his glorious skin. She could only imagine how his skin would burn hers, how his lips would feel pressed against her own. Belle had longed for him since their first meeting, since he had captivated her body and mind. With the cards fanned out in front of her, she reached out and placed her hand on a card, staring at it silently, “You must know a game, you do carry the cards after all.” She finally spoke while pushing a card towards him, the joker. A small smile crossed her lips as she leaned closer, if possible and tilted her head slightly, waiting patiently. Playing cards had once been a fond memory of Isabelle’s childhood, cards had meant a great significance to her and her father, it had usually only been the time that she and her father bonded. It was the only thing they had in common.

[ray3]

He could feel her eyes on him all the time. It felt like he was under a magnifying glass. Every twitch, every breath was recorded from her eyes, and probably jotted down on the paper infront of her. Sethos looked at the things on Isabelle's table. He saw a vase, with one solitary flower in it. It was beginning to wilt. A bit like Sethos. His layers were being stripped, one by one. He was becoming more exposed every day, more vulnerable. He stared at the dark rose, and then at the card that was tied to the neck of the vase, with a thin piece of string. He looked closer, and saw hiw own handwriting. Neat, and careful. Unlike himself. He smiled as he saw enscripted in ink on the card, a note. Come and see me sometime - J. Sethos sighed as he thought back to the first time he'd layed his eyes upon Isabelle. She was fresh-faced, and new, looked very confident, but then, she looked into his cell and saw him, practically rotting away, only he looked positively pleased. Sethos knew there was something about Isabelle that was different to these other so-called doctors in Azkaban, claiming to cure all the patients. None of them could, not even Isabelle. But she made a difference. Their first meeting together was fun for Sethos, and he had the feeling she enjoyed it aswell. He knew she was more comfortable now, but she would never show her true feelings, or she would try. Belle had questioned him about the rose, asking him how it had gotten there. Sethos smiled as he remembered his exact words in reply to her question. "I put it there." He had said simply, and although Belle should have told someone, she didn't. That was one of the things that made her different. Sethos was more than aware that her interest in him was more than just professional. And there was nothing professional about his feelings for her. Even in that ghastly uniform, she looked utterly breathtaking in it. As she always did. And now, back in the present, Sethos frowned at the rose. It seemed less brighter. The stem was bending slightly. He wondered if it linked with his and Belle's relationship. Could they bend to go further? Or would everything snap, and just die? Sethos looked away fro the rose, and back int the crystal blue eyes of Belle.

Then, completely unaware of what he was doing, Sethos was hearing Isabelle, though hr mouth was frozen in the cute pout she used when in neutral. He was hearing her thoughts. Unknowingly, he'd decided to listen to what was going on inside that mind of hers. Why didn't he think of that before? And he musn't have given hmself away, because she continued to think of Sethos. And in a way that Sethos began to feel very vain, and proud. A smile began to stretch across his face as he heard Isabelle concluding to herself, that it was true, she'd fallen for Sethos. He looked down at the cards and saw as she took one, examined what was on the card, and turned it for him to see the Joker card, grinning to him. Sethos laughed lowly, and then looked over to Belle. He was silent, but he decided to use another of his special abilities. Legelimency. He stared into her face and projected something across to her. He tapped his fingers on the table as he did so, looking so relaxed, and yet, so devilish. In his mind, he said to Isabelle, in a charming, almost fairytale prince, sort of way. "Your mind is so enchanting, Belle." And when Sethos was sure she'd gotten it, he sat forward, as forward as that blasted table would let him, and he smiled a smile. A smile that no-one should trust.

[nina02]

Every single aspect of the ‘homicidal nut job’ (a label the daily prophet had grown accustomed to calling Sethos.) intrigued her, she craved to explore his mind. Belle could only imagine how beautiful his thoughts would be, how his mind would constantly tick, calculating everything. To wander through that beautiful place, where the tiniest thought ignited and burned stronger, revelling in the destruction and fall of the wizarding world. Some men just wanted to watch the world burn. But it wasn’t the corruption that Sethos had caused that drew her to his room most evenings, it wasn’t because he had manipulated her feelings and led her to be blinded by love, but she had yet to discover the reason that triggered the chaos that built inside of him. Belle craved to know the beginning, simply to predict the end. People spent years discovering the beginning, the start to everything. If given the chance, Belle would stand by for years, needing to discover the truth. Maybe the madness always lurked, only set of by the simplest thing. It wasn’t that Sethos hadn’t told tales of his past, tales of how he was marked and the sccares still remained today, therefore he had to carry the burden of the past along with him, although it was hard for others to believe him, Belle swallowed up every word that left his lips. She had never been the gullable type, nor had she been the type of woman to fall in love with a pyschopath, that was before meeting Sethos, now the story was completely and utterly different. She was only gullable when it came to him, she only fell in love with him. Belle had denied her feelings on countless occasions, but it had gotten to the point where she just couldn’t push away something that was so strong, too strong for her to just ignore and push to the side. What could she do? Her mind said nothing, but her heart said act on those feelings, and she would, when the time was right.

The cobalt blue eyes glazed over, she continued to stare at the man before her with her lips slightly gaped and her mind off in a world of its own. Belle had always enjoyed the privacy of her mind, knowing that she could think of every small possibility without anyone interfering. However all those thoughts that been wiped out immediately once the all to familiar voice filled her mind, causing a startled Belle’s cheek’s to burn scarlet red. Legelimency had surely been a curse. “Now, now, I don’t find it particularly fair that you can wander my mind but I can’t do the same to yours.” Frowning in slight disappointment, her burning cheeks would take a while to cool. He knew all her feelings, the ones that resided on the non-professional base. Continuing to lean across the table, in attempt to get the slightest inch closer, she stared, embracing his smile but remaining silent.

[ray3]

He was a complex man. That was a perfect word to describe him. Complex. There were multiple sides to him, too many for an average joe. It was like many different kinds of people, all stuffed into one body. He was so unpredictable. Men feared when and if he would attack, and unleash the uncontrollable rage that was somehow hidden beneath his skin severely damaged. Before hand, he would seem completely at ease, nothing would bother him. It was rare that he had a visitor, and the guards at Azkaban were thankful for that. And this time, they were practically quivering from head to toe as they cuffed the man, tied him to a straight jacket, and bolted him onto a table to move him. It would seem they were going to extremes, but this was necessary. They were prepared this time, but even when the man jerked in their direction, as a joke, obviously, they would shriek like a little girl and jump out of the way. Too easy! He had them all playing along to his game. And the best thing was, they didn't even know they were playing. But the table wasn't needed this time, nor was the straight jacket. He wasn't going to make a break for escape this time. Not just yet. He would have walked swiftly and silently with his guards at ethier side of him, he would have preferred that. But he didn't complain. He liked it, however, when they realized the table couldn't fit through the door of the visitor's room. They had to unlock him, to free him so that he could commit harrm. But they were all stunned into silence when he sat up and strolled across to his waiting cell. And sat down, and had the straight jacket and handcuffs taken quickly off him by trembling hands. And when it was time to come out of the cell, and into the room, that only caused more anxiety and panic. There were many watching, and he wasn't at all happy about that. He loved some privacy with his visitors, especially with this particular visitor. Isabelle was the reason that he hadn't left yet. If it was love, he didn't know it. He highly doubted it, but would have liked to have experieced and felt what it was like to love. He'd never been loved at all in his life, and hadn't ever loved another living being. Not even his father, whom he just craved attention from.

Sethos' mouth curled into a sinister smirk. He did love the way her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, she looked rather adorable. He was actually a bit unhappy that she couldn't get into his mind to know how he felt about her. He was invading poor Belle's privacy, but how could he resist? He was more than curiois about her feelings for him. He had known this was more than just work to her. Sethos watched her as she leaned in closer to him. She must have been the only one to get this close, and not be under the threat of a knife or gun. Sethos stared intently into Belle's face and watched her lips as she spoke to him. Her defence was so sweet. Sethos was truly mesmerized by Belle. And he had to admit, this wasn't very fair. "Alright, I apologise, sweets. I'll let you into my mind ... but that won't come cheap." And he rased a challenging eyebrow, teasing Isabelle softly. But Sethos wasn't done just yet. "Say, Belle ... have you ever felt a sudden rush of panic?" And suddenly his smile faded and as quick as a flash of lightening, he lunged across the table at her, but didn't go any further than just laying his body onto the table, and holding her hands firmly in his. She wasn't going anywhere. He was dangerously close, their noses close to brushing aganst eachother. It didn't seem to phase him at all. "Now don't go saying this isn't about you because you know fine well it is." And he raised his eyebrows, waiting for her response, not really caring what that might be.

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