Hawke's POV
Isabela walked right up to me at the bar, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Sorry about the interruption. Someone had the audacity to sit on my barstool." She gestured for me to walk with her and I gave Corff a weak wave goodbye. As we walked toward the back of the Hanged Man, I saw a singular open stool. Not only was it only seat unoccupied, but it was painted royal blue, where the rest were just a light wood finish. That must be hers. And it looks like I just discovered her favorite color. I shook my head, not needing to mention it at the moment. At the far end of the tavern we reached a set of stairs with a door above. Once at the top, she pulled out a key and unlocked it. There was a hallway stretching the width of the building with another set of stairs on the far right. There was a red door on the far left with a '2' above the peephole. Isabela walked confidently toward it as I trailed behind. She unlocked the second door and took a step inward, flicking on a light. I stood patiently in the entranceway, waiting for a proper invitation.
"Let me give you the grand tour." She smiled and took my hand, guiding me through to her inner sanctum. "You're timing is good. I just did a major renovation last year. I prefer the look it has now." She hung up my jacket and her purse on a coat rack near the door. I can honestly say that once that door closed and I heard the deadbolt catch, my jaw dropped. Whatever strange assumptions I had made about her living arrangements were way off target. It was somewhere between the Bat-cave and the Captain's quarters of a pirate ship. It was rustic and dark, but everything looked to be the finest that money could buy. The floors were all wide wooden planks, deep and chocolaty in appearance. Directly to my left, a window and a dark accent table, with a pile of unopened mail on it. I followed the wall, seeing a mirror and a pair of crossed swords; antique cutlasses, like you would usually find in a museum. I immediately took off my shoes, leaving them by the coat rack. Fuck me, this place is amazing!
Isabela flicked on a second light. "This is my office. I spend way too much time in there. " It was directly ahead with an ornate blue throw rug. Bookcases stood on either side of a window, filled to the brim with leather-bound and hardcover titles. Her desk and computer were against a wall that broke the space into sections, while only running half the width of the floor plan. The desk itself fit the dark wood color scheme she was going for, but was coated in open folders and varying papers.
"This is the living room." On the other side of the office wall was a huge TV (easily 60") with a Playstation and cable box tucked neatly underneath. There was a coffee table, more bookcases, and a matching crimson loveseat-armchair combo that faced the television. A large window spanned most of the length of the living room, allowing for an amazing view of the city lights. A companion to the office rug filled most of the floor space in this section, as well, but was the same color as the chairs. A large wooden ceiling fan was the source of most of the light in the apartment.
"Here, take a seat." She led me to a stool next to the island of the kitchen before turning on the overhead lights. The island itself was a deep black marble, and cool to the touch. I turned to look at the right side of the apartment. It looked as if a large wall had blocked it off from the rest, but it was cut in two, leaving a wide open gap. Definitely claustrophobic. There's not a door in sight, and the curtains aren't even closed. The entire layout seemed very open, and I could see a vanity and the tip of a four post bed from behind the barrier. I gulped hard, remembering the purpose of this little visit. "What do you think?"
I startled, having forgotten what I was doing. Isabela was sitting in the other stool, her head propped on one arm and her long legs barely touching the floor. I looked around again before turning my attention to her. "I want to say bachelor pad, but you're not a man."
"Is that a bad thing?" She arched her brow to me, a slight grin on her lips.
I shook my head violently. "No! Of course not! I think it's pretty awesome so far. And your TV! It's huge!"
"Come on, wolf eyes. Let me show you the rest of the house." She stood and waved me over. We walked to the gap between the walls, where she flipped another light switch, and I looked around. To my left, the bedroom. There was no further barrier to that expanse. A California King sized dark wood four post bed with royal blue sheets took up most of the space, with a footlocker in front of it. There was a wide window just above the headboard, letting in some ambient light. She had a row of closets against the back of the living room wall and a matching vanity in front of another high window on the far wall. Wow!
At the far end of the gap was a single painting, which I immediately recognized as Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich, one of my dad's favorites. Not all who wander are lost. We stepped to the right of the 'hallway' and into the bathroom, and Isabela cut the light on. The only thing separating the two spaces was a deep blue folding false wall, like a larger version of a changing screen, with a black silk robe draped over it. Against the wall to my right were the washer and dryer, along with a shelf for towels and detergent. Kind of wondered where she did her laundry. Classy lady like her doesn't do coin-op. There was a marble sink with a mirror above it and a simple toilet. At least it's not a bidet. That would be a frightening learning curve! In the center of the white tile area was a large claw-foot tub with a shower head and curtain, and a basket along the side containing various soaps and a washcloth. A large frosted window was at the far end, allowing light to get in, but maintaining privacy.
I blinked a few times before sitting on the footlocker. "I repeat, you, Isabela Rivaini, are an enigma." She rolled her eyes and sat next to me.
"How so?" Her head tilted curiously.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and leaned into her. "You could have any stupid expensive condo or fancy ranch. Instead, you renovate the second floor of a bar and turn it into a badass apartment?" I arched my eyebrow.
She shrugged. "I'm kind of a private person, silly as that sounds. I built this space to my own specifications so that I would be comfortable here after a long day of classes." And she did seem much more at ease. Her expressions were softer, her words came slower, and her smile seemed completely natural. "Truthfully, high-town housing comes with its own problems. You'll see just as many rats, but their furs will be more expensive. And they'll have lawyers. I hate lawyers."
I chuckled a bit, trying to break the tension in her jaw. "Corff mentioned you don't bring people here often. No booty calls to Casa de Isabela?" I squeezed her side tightly.
Isabela turned her head to me and ran a finger down my temple. "I can't trust the location of my secret headquarters to just anyone." She looked as serious as the plague for a moment before her smile broke. That was Wonderwoman on Lois Lane hot! Only she could make something so geeky sound so sexy.
I kissed her cheek eagerly. "If I am to be bound with carrying the most sacred of knowledge, do I at least get sidekick status? I could be your Robin!"
She gave a light chuckle and patted my cheek. "One step at a time, I'm still wrapping myself around 'girlfriend'."
I hadn't heard her use that word yet, and it surprised me. It was a happy surprise, though, and I found myself pulling her in for a series of sweet kisses. "You can wrap yourself around me any time, Isabela." She buried her hand in my hair and started to deepen the kiss. This is it. This is your moment. You're in the bedroom. You're already kissing… That's when my nerves caught up with me, and I pulled back, quickly standing. "After I use the restroom."
She sighed and shook her head as I walked into the bathroom. I could hear "tease" from behind the thin barrier. I quickly attended to my business before washing my hands. I left the water running and looked in the mirror. What the hell am I doing here? I have no idea how to have sex with her! I just barely got the kissing part down! And what if I totally suck? Is she gonna just let me poke around down there all night even if I'm clueless? God, I hope not. I really don't want to disappoint her. But… she is an Anatomy TA, and she can obvious keep up on her end. Maybe she'll be nice and lead you through it, and ignore the blubbering mess you'll be within seconds. Maybe she won't notice the gnarly scar on your back, despite the fact that she's absolutely flawless. The moment you see her naked, you're going to have a fit, and she's going to look at you like you're stupid. … Maybe we should wait. I mean, no rush, right? Oh, come on, who are you kidding? If you can't deliver the goods, she'll find someone who can! Someone hotter, with more stamina, more experience…
"Hawke?" I could barely identify the voice behind me as my knuckles whited against the sink. My pulse was beating in my ears, my head felt way too light, and I was hyperventilating. Shit. I clutched my chest as my eyes rolled back into my skull and I fell backwards in a faint.
Isabela's POV
I sat on my footlocker, taking off my heels and jewelry. I was nervous, and once the shoes were off my feet, I buried my head in my palms. What the hell am I doing here? You don't bring young girls home. You don't bring anyone home! And when did you start falling for geeky college chicks? Since when do you let them call you their 'girlfriend' after only 24 hours acquaintance? This is absolutely insane! Those big blue eyes have got you hooked, and you aren't even thinking straight! She's not entirely innocent, but her sexual experience could probably be described as 'none'. I mean, what happens to this little love story once she's naked? Sure, she'll be hot. But you'll be impulsive. You'll push her too fast, she'll freak, and it'll all go downhill. You can lead. She won't mind that at all. But what if you get close but she can't finish? She's going to be done in under a minute. But you… you are a whole new dimension of time, effort, and skill that she isn't used to. No… she's an athlete, nervousness aside. She'll catch up. There's no hurry, really. I mean… I need to have sex soon. But it can wait until later tonight, if it needs to. Perhaps patience is key.
I looked at the clock on the far wall. I continued to hear water running in the bathroom, but she had been in there a long time. I stood and adjusted my clothing before calling her name. "Hawke?" I stood against the changing screen and waited for a response. When she didn't answer, I got worried. I carefully walked inside to check on her. She was leaned up against the sink, her face pale in the mirror's reflection. It was a split second before she was clutching at her chest. Shit. I ran up behind her as she passed out, just barely stopping her before she hit the hard tile. Shit, shit, shit! She was dead weight in my arms, and it took all my effort to drag her into the hallway.
"Wake up, Hawke!" I slapped her face a bit, trying to make her stir. "Oh, come on!" I started shaking her shoulders, to no avail. I checked her pulse, somewhat comforted that she was, in fact, still alive. That's when I realized I needed help. I laid her on her side, making sure her airway was open before running like hell to find Varric. I bounded up the stairs like a madwoman and banged on his door.
"Varric!" I yelled as I continued to pound the wood.
"What the hell, Rivaini!" He swung the door open angrily. I noted that he was clothed before shouting at him.
"My place now! My girl had a panic attack and hit the deck!" I grabbed his stubby hand and dragged him outside. "My girlfriend is passed out in the hallway, and she won't wake up!" I screamed as we bolted down the stairs.
"Your WHAT?" But I didn't answer, taking him directly to her. He crouched next to her, checking her pulse. "Grab me some Windex. The ammonia ought to wake her up." I bolted to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle and a towel. I doused the fabric and handed it to him. He sat her up and wiped the towel under her nose, causing her face to cringe. He continued until Hawke's eyes began to flutter open. "We've got a live one!"