Her Hero [6]

A llttle Too personal...

Hey Fam. So I'm trying to incorporate Emmett's nightly modeling career, but I'm not to sure on just..how. Is anyone opposed to my wanting to scrap that? Maybe I'll add it back..in a surprising manner. Or as a mini twist bunny or something..

Enjoy!

Recap:"It looks like one of those super rich, mafia mob homes." He commented jokingly, hitching his thumbs on the waistband of his jeans.

Isabelle flushed happily

He glanced around again, his eyes settling on the strange mirror objects that rested on windowsills. He strolled over to it, and carefully picked it up. Turning to a chargin Isabelle, He raised the foreign item, so she could see it better from his hands. "Gonzales Bizarre Frivolitys?" He asked, curiously.

Surprised, Isabelle nodded. Slowly she walked towards him. "They're called Feng Shui Bagua Mirrors," she told to him. Her eyes locked onto the Mirrors octagonal form, and bright colors. Her hands hovered over his, as her eyes roamed the item with an unreadable expression. He tried to read her face, but she was to guarded for him to peak through her armor. A moment passed before she gently took the strange item from him, and placed it delicately on the windowsill.

"They reflect negative spirits, suck in negative ones as well, and most imperative of all- their main purpose is to serve as a form of protection to the house," She emphasised with stress on the word protection. He found himself nodding, slightly unnerved, but intrigued nonetheless.

"Sounds like something from a scary story," he goofed, trying to lighten her somber mood. He could tell that something bothered her, her eyes hazy and unfocused. The way she held her body, tense and quivering. As if she looked ready to strike, or pounce on some poor unsuspecting victim and tear out their throats.

Her electronic blue eyes shifted on to him, a fraction of mirth in her eyes..a tight smile for him. "They are worse things that come from reality, then spooky stories," Her eyes shown darkly, and an oddly toothy grin from her made him shiver, slightly.

Emmett shook it off. Why was he shivering, admittedly from a startling dark smile Isabelle bestowed upon him, of all people? He was freakishly 6"2, and burly enough for two grown-sized men. And yet..His grey eyes seemed to peak at Isabelle on accordance of their own. She was tiny, compared to him. Barely even 5'10. But..the way her eyes glinted at him with a hidden glee, and the fact that she gave him a full house of teeth smile..Made him shiver, slightly unnerved and slightly turned on.

His grey eyes darken, stormy with laden desire for her, and her temptress aura. He didn't quite know what to say. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "It didn't take you long to put things together here." His voice had come out huskily, unconsciously stirring up She-rah, in Isabelle.

She blinked. Owlishly so. Mentally allowing She-rah time to stretch before she slammed the mental construction of a gate in her face..er..muzzle. Snout. You get the idea.

"I wanted everything back to normal as soon as possible. The move wasn't easy for Carl'. " She said softly. particularly distracted by She-rah's whines and attempts to break free of her mental cage.

"And you?" He turned then, catching her off guard with a sudden, piercing look. Startled, Isabelle stumbled, accidentally releasing her mental constraints on She-rah, before steadying herself.

"Me? I—..."

"You know," he began as he crossed over to her, attracted by her simple bafflement. "You're a lot more articulate when you talk about Carlie than you are when you talk about Ms. Voultri." Her eyes darted around rapidly, from him to their surroundings, then back again. She licked her lips, a really bad habit, might I add. "Isabelle," She corrected. The fact that She-rah was out was unnerving Isabelle. She could feel herself pulse, as if she were about to-

She stepped back quickly, aware that he would have touched her and totally unsure what her reaction might have been. "I should start dinner."

"Want some help?"

"With what?"

This time she didn't move quickly enough. Internally She-rah howled, happily letting Emmett cup her chin in his hand and smile. "With dinner ?"

Isabelle scowled, upset with her traitorous primal self, and Emmett for...his irritatingly good looks. But...it has been a long time since a man had touched her that way. He had a strong hand with gentle fingers. That had to be the reason her heart leaped up to her throat and pounded there."Can you cook?"

For the first time in years he felt the urge to paint, just to see if he could bring her pouty lips and memorizing eyes to life on canvas. "My specialty flavor is burnt," He honestly told her. His eye-brows wiggled, dimples winking at her, which in total earned him a girlish giggle, and a sweet pinkish face.

She lifted a hand to his wrist, to move his away, she thought. But her fingers lay there lightly a moment, experimenting. "How are you at chopping vegetables?"

"It's really a simple meal," she began. "But when it's all mixed up Carl hardly notices its a healthy, meal. Snickerdoodles's are a true way to her heart."

"My kind of kid," Emmett smiled, leaning against the door of the Kitchen. Isabelle looked perfectly at ease. He realized cooking must be her element. Her movements were fluid and graceful.

She smiled a little, more relaxed now that she had her hands full. She set celery and mushrooms on the chopping block. "The trick's in moderation." Isabelle took the chicken out, then remembered the spicey apple cider. "I'm willing to concede to Carlie's sweet tooth in small doses. She's willing to accept broccoli on the same terms."

"Sounds like a wise arrangement," He commented absently. Enjoying the way her buttocks looked in her fitted,grey joggers. He shifted slightly in discomfort, subconsciously acknowledging his attraction to her.

Isabelle's nose flared, slightly. A foreign. but delectable smell infiltrating her sense of smell.

She opened the spicey drink. 'Expensive,' he thought with a glance at the label. She filled three glasses, then handed him one.

It was silly, but her hands were damp again. It had been some time since she'd shared a bottle of cider or fixed a simple dinner with a man. "To neighbors," he said, and thought she relaxed fractionally as he touched his glass to hers.

"Why don't you sit down while I bone the chicken? Then you can deal with the vegetables," She said. Her body thrumming with She-Rah's restlessness.

He didn't want to sit, but did. Something primal in him instructed him that he was not the Alpha he liked to think he was. Though he wasn't willing to give her the distance he was sure she wanted, he conceded. But boy, she smelled so good. She handled the knife like an expert, he noted as he sipped his drink. 'Impressive.'

Most of the career women he knew were more experienced in takeouts. "So, how's the new job?"

Isabelle moved her shoulders. "It's working out well. The manager's a stickler for efficiency, and that trickles down. Carl and I have been having conferences all week so we can compare notes."

'Was that what they'd been talking about when they'd walked home today?' he wondered. Was that why she'd laughed? "How's Carlie taking the new school?"

"Amazingly well." Her lips softened and curved again. He was tempted to touch a fingertip to them to feel the movement. "Whatever happens in Carl's life, she rolls with. She's incredible."

There was a shadow there, a slight one, but he could see it in her eyes.

"Divorce is tough," he said, and watched Isabelle freeze up.

"Yes." She put the boned and cubed chicken in a bowl. "You can chop this while I start the rice."

"Sure." No trespassing, he thought, and let it drop. For now. He'd gone with the law of averages when he'd mentioned divorce, and realized he'd been on the mark.

A/N: Another filter. The next one might be the last one of filters.

I confessed to my Crush. I hope She says Yes. Wish me luck!