AN: Here is a little update before Christmas! Thank you for your reviews.
Eternally Edward's Girl primps and polishes. ILYSMJ
This chp is not beta'd so please excuse any errors.
SM owns Twilight
~o~o~0~ Adagio ~0~o~o~
Chapter 21
The weekend at Alice's had passed quickly in a flurry of birthday presents and good food, surrounded by Alice's family. Although Alice knew the extent to which Isabella's family had fallen apart, Isabella kept it from anyone else, unconsciously protecting her father. A father, who in the eyes of those who loved Isabella, didn't deserve an ounce of her regard.
Alice's mother had cooed and coddled over her daughter, making her a deliciously rich chocolate cake adorned with nineteen candles, which Alice had blown out at once to cheers and applause. Isabella enjoyed the festivities and thrived in the break from her own soulless house, but she couldn't help but feel a little sad, especially when she saw how Alice shone under her mother's adoring gaze.
Alice watched as her friend and mother worked together to ensure that her birthday would be a day to remember. Isabella had a huge heart that she wore on her sleeve, offering all her love and happiness to Alice, irrespective of the fact that she must be missing her own mother immeasurably.
~ A ~
With the inspiring performance of Rose spurring her on, Isabella stopped off at a local music shop on the way home. She was determined to write down the ideas, which for the first time in a long while, had been bouncing around her head.
She'd not been to this particular shop for a while, but the familiar smell of old musty books mixed with the freshly brewing coffee felt almost homely.
Browsing the aisles, she ran her finger over the catalogues of music, idly flicking through. There was a multitude of new and second hand instruments and script music at the front of the shop and a small cluster of tables set at the back where you could sit and while away the hours, reading with a warm cup clasped in your hand.
She made her way upstairs, the steps creaking underfoot, to where some of the more unique books and manuscripts were kept, and the reason for her visit—the bound books of blank manuscript paper, awaiting someone to fill them up.
It was peaceful. A ray of light shone through the small round window, illuminating the dust that hung in the air. The room was smaller and stuffed to the brim with shelves; piles of paper and books were haphazardly dotted around.
She headed down the first aisle, pulling a few books out to flick through before she slotted them back. A rustle of paper made her pause, her arm mid reach. She'd been unaware of anyone else's presence. Straining her ears for a moment, she heard nothing else.
Carrying on her slow perusal, she spotted the spine of a familiar book—the biography of the violinist Niccolo Paganini. She removed it her from the shelf; her hands resting almost reverentially on the cover. The memories it brought back were comforting.
Deciding she was going to buy it, she looked back to the shelf for another copy but instead, in the gap left by the book, she saw a glimpse of dishevelled, whiskey coloured hair that couldn't possibly belong to anybody else.
~o~o~0~o~o~
AN: I feel a bit mean leaving you with a cliffe. I'll see what I can do. :)
Thank you for reading xx