Author's Note: While tracking views, I noticed a lot more people read this chapter than several of the earlier ones. If you skipped ahead for some reason, you just missed the sex chapter! GO BACK! If you're not interested, however, just stop reading this story altogether. Between all my fluff, there will still be plenty of steamy bits.
Isabela's POV
…Ugh. Why? I had never felt so sore in my life. My entire body felt like a ten-ton weight, and there was something equally heavy pressed against my back. It took me a moment to recall the events of the night. Hawke. Small snippets played in my brain. My hand gripping the headboard while the other dug into short black hair, my gyrating hips, a velvety tongue stroking expertly in and around my hot, slick flesh, my own screams filling the air. Oh, Hawke... Just thinking about it was making me hot all over again. My eyes fluttered open. It seemed to be not too long after dawn and I glanced up at the clock to confirm. 7:22.
My new girlfriend was snuggled against my back, an arm around my waist and her warm breath against my neck. Girlfriend. That's just… I never expected to want all of this so quickly. I don't do sleepovers. But I was so tired and she was so amazing… It's kind of escalating, and I'm not really sure where to go from here. I was tempted to roll over and wake Cassandra up to discuss said feelings. Cassandra. It's such a musical, but strong name. And she really likes it when I call her that. Remembering the licentious look in her blue eyes at my use of her proper name, I was finding it hard not to be aroused, despite the fact that my body wasn't ready for another performance. Instead of disturbing the woman's serene and well-deserved rest, I carefully moved her arm aside. She grumbled something indiscernible as I slipped out of the embrace. My usual poise was a bit rattled, but some simple stretches made walking comfortable. I made my way to the bathroom and noticed our clothes in the dryer. As suspected. She fucked me senseless, then tidied up. You just don't find civility like that anymore. I turned on the steam cycle, making sure to air out any wrinkles that occurred from sitting overnight, before glancing over at my four post bed.
Hawke was still sleeping peacefully above the covers. Even deep in the fade that is dreams, she looked badass. She had settled on her side, shielding the space where I used to be. She obviously spent the whole night protecting me, whether I knew it or not. The noble gesture put a smile on my face as I continued to watch her shallow breathing. Hawke's muscles were defined, even on her back, in the way only an athlete's body could be. But despite her physical size (which must be handy in rugby), she wasn't inherently masculine. The word Amazon came to the forefront of my mind, and it seemed to fit. Tall and slender, but strong and commanding; a warrior from another age. I found myself looking at her in a new light. Sure, she was a geek, a bookworm, and maybe she wasn't the social butterfly I was, but she was honest, respectable, and far smarter than anyone would probably know. And Hawke had this air of coolness about her that I knew few people could see, even on the rugby field. If they did, she would have had dozens of girlfriends prior to myself. As far as I could tell I was her first, in more ways than one. Which was fine with me; fewer exes to taunt.
Trapped in my inner thoughts, my eyes were enjoying Cassandra's tattoo. It might have been intended as a phoenix, but without flames, it's definitely a hawk. And that's fitting, really. I doubt she had seen my ink yet, considering it was on the small of my back, although that could easily be rectified. But I couldn't just stand around staring at her all morning. I fell asleep with a red-head once. Chick watched me for hours. Creepy. I decided to run a hot bath, hoping to work out some of the kinks in my neck and soften up my joints. As I settled with my cell phone in the tub, I thought about the week ahead. Based upon my calendar, it was going to be a long one. I had lectures and labs to attend, assignments to grade, a lesson or two to plan, an experiment to run, and probably a thousand emails to read. Luckily, if my winger was half the student I thought her to be, she would also be busy, so no feelings would be hurt if we couldn't spend ample time together.
After a thorough scrubbing and extra soaking to alleviate the strained muscles of my abdominals and adductor longus, I decided to check my messages.
Unknown Number. 8:57pm. "Hello Isabela! It's me, Merrill, Red's roommate! I can call you Isabela, can't I? I hadn't thought to ask if you'd like to be called something else. And if you're not Isabela, then forget I said anything, because I've got the wrong number. ~M~" I chuckled at the rambled text before saving the contact as 'Kitten'."Good morning Kitten. First, you can call me Isabela. It's my name, after all. Second, I'm sorry to be replying to this so early on a Sunday, but as you can imagine, I had an extremely eventful evening. ;) Do feel free to text away, though. We have so much to talk about!"
Fenris. Saturday 9:24pm. "You can swing by my house for a drink tonight if you're not busy. I've got a new painting you might enjoy." I'm pretty sure I was on my second or third orgasm by then. Safe to say I was not only busy, but quite joyful. "Sorry gorgeous, but it just so happens that I am seeing someone now. However, I can still try to visit your gallery this weekend. With my companion, if that's alright."
That's enough of that for one morning. I set my phone in the basket at the rim of the tub. I stepped out and drained the water, stretching leisurely. Much better. I grabbed a towel before standing in front of the fogged mirror. "Fuck me." I groaned as I looked at my reflection. My lipstick was smudged all to Hell and my neck looked like it went toe-to-toe with a heavy-weight boxing champion, a dozen small love-bites peppered on either side. As I washed and dried my face, I made a mental note not to chastise Hawke until after breakfast. I could hear her start to move around in the other room and I was not at all surprised when I saw a very tall, very naked rugby player shuffling groggily into the bathroom behind me.
"Oh, sorry 'Bela. I'll wait." She waved her hands in front of her face and made to turn around.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'll be done in a moment." I smiled and shook out my hair, lightly toweling it off. The bending action led my eyes down past my navel and I noticed a thumbprint sized bruise on the front of my right hip. No doubt, there were nine more where that came from. "Can you hand me my robe?"
"… Ok." I glanced at her in the mirror. She ruffled her short hair a few times and rubbed at her neck, causing her arm muscles to flex. I also noted where most of my lipstick had gone; all over her face, neck and upper chest. She grabbed my robe and held it open behind me. "Here you… oh! You have a tattoo." She blinked a few times, having just woken up fully.
It was a compass rose, to be exact. More of a 'tramp stamp' than a legitimate tattoo, but what can I say? I was drunk and the art wasn't half bad. I even added some more ornate touches later on. "Yes. Do you like it?" I looked at her over my shoulder, pleased at her appreciative smirk. Her gaze was wandering over a lot more than my ink, but I was perfectly fine with that.
"It's hot. Very you." Hawke noted as she wrapped me in my robe and herself along with it. She sighed against my temple as we looked at each other in the mirror. "Sorry about the hickeys and such. I got a little carried away." Her slight frown and pleading blue eyes broke my heart, so I chose not to throw a fit.
I've had worse. And without half the reward! I cleared my throat. "Nothing some cover-up can't fix." I gave a genuine smile and her sulking appearance met an end. She squeezed me tight around the waist and buried her nose in my damp hair. "Now hop in the shower, sailor, or there'll be no breakfast for you." I playfully slapped the hand that tried to weasel its way into my robe. This pup just keeps getting bolder!
"Ms. Rivaini in the kitchen? Now I am hungry." She held her hands up in surrender, backing toward the tub.
I chuckled at her as I approached the dryer. "You shouldn't be." I noted as I separated and folded our clothes. I heard a small amount of laughter from behind the shower curtain as she turned the water on. And here I was thinking I was going to have the upper hand in the bedroom… And she did it on accident! No one else can even get me past three orgasms with their best effort, and she's just like 'oops. Sorry about shattering your world. I lost track of time. Now let me just pick up after myself and serve as your blanket.' What have I gotten myself into? And what the Hell is going to happen when she actually is trying? I shivered at the thought and glanced at the figure in my shower. I am so thoroughly fucked. But I was distracted by humming. I took a cautious step closer, not wanting my footfalls to be heard. The tune was familiar and I had to bite my lip to stop from giggling. Super Mario? Really? Consider the sexual tension temporarily broken.
I tucked my phone into my pocket before slipping into the kitchen for some necessary calories. I noticed that our glasses had migrated to the sink during the night and that our coasters rejoined the stack on the coffee table. I would have been fine with seeing a little clutter, just to make my apartment actually look lived in, but the idea that she didn't want to disturb my inner sanctum was kind of touching. I decided to throw together some crêpes. I wasn't sure if Hawke had even experienced a proper one considering where she was raised, but it was worth a shot. Besides, it was my apartment and if I wanted crêpes I was going to have crêpes, God dammit. I was in the middle of cutting some fruit on the side when I heard the water turn off in the bathroom.
"Hey, Isabela? Do you have a spare toothbrush?" Called the nervous voice down the hall.
"In the medicine cabinet." I answered quickly. A few minutes later she was pitter-pattering her way behind me. I had an aversion to being snuck up on, but I took a calming breath as she hugged me from behind, now fully clothed in yesterday's outfit.
She looked over my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my temple. "You cook, too?" Mama, I think I'm in love…
I turned to get a proper kiss, surprised by the soft but insistent 'good morning'. I was tempted to allow things to progress further, but my brain slapped the thought away. Girlfriend. Apartment. Sleepover. Breakfast. It was a lot to process and if I didn't unlock our lips, I was never going to be able to think it through. "A little. Take a seat." Hawke gave a reluctant sigh and plopped down on the stool across the island. I took a deep breath and arranged the last of the food. Before I could settle down to eat, however, my phone went off. Shit.
"Good morning, Ashley." I groaned through the line. Cassandra was filling her plate and gave me a big thumbs up on her first bite. A freshly-cooked breakfast involving Nutella, cantaloupe, and strawberries? I'm in Heaven.
"You sound grumpy… Am I interrupting something?" Hawke gave a cheerful wave, as if to say 'hello' from the other side. I stuck my tongue out and faced the other way, not in the mood to deal with my crazy gal-pal this early in the morning, and really not in the mood for my new girlfriend and her to chat.
I sighed into the phone. "No. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"The rugby chick. How was she?" Well, that was fast.
I pursed my lips. "Hawke says 'hi'."
"She spent the night? Isabela! Was it that good?"
I had to pull the phone away from my ear with the harsh shrill of her voice. I cleared my throat and spoke plainly. "Yes."
"Damn, girl! Toss your old friend a number!"
Fuck off, Barbie. "Going through a tunnel. Gotta go." Click. When I turned around, Hawke just looked at me and laughed.
"You alright, babe?" She was halfway through her three crêpes already and had a little juice from her cantaloupe running down her chin. The eerie resemblance to last night made me shiver. My phone immediately vibrated in my hand.
"Going through a tunnel? Really, Bela? *Ash*"
"Ok, I just want radio silence on this one, alright? Hawke is an invariable sex machine. I've never come so hard, so quickly, and so often in my entire life. But she's mine, so if you or any of your friends so much as look at her, I'll cut you from stem to stern. Clear?" With that, I locked my screen and put my phone completely on silent, knowing damn well than she was going to try to drill me for more information later. I stuck my cell in my robe, out of sight and out of mind.
"Ashley again?" Hawke asked between bites.
I took a deep breath and made my plate. "She's kind of nosy sometimes."
"Did you tell her to back off?" I arched my brow to her as I took a bite. She just shrugged and tried not to crack a smug smile. Obviously she failed. "It's ok to be a little possessive."
But it's not ok. I already know she's not your type, but I'm still treating her like she's trying to steal toys from my sandbox. It's childish, but I can't help it. "I'm a sexual creature, Hawke. It's highly abnormal for me to seek out anything more than casual thrills." I nervously cut my crêpes into bite-sized pieces.
The new girl finished her food and wiped off her messy face. "I did get that impression. But, if you want, we can take a step back." She rinsed her plate in the sink before quickly locating the dishwasher. "We may have rushed this a bit, and despite the fact that you've told me all about your life, I want to take a moment to actually get to know your personality. Likes, dislikes, pet peeves; that sort of thing." She loaded all of my dirty dishes into the machine as I began to casually eat. There was some something to be said about domestic bliss and Hawke's natural cleanliness, though unnecessary, was kind of attractive in its own right.
"Well… I love sailing. Really anything involving the water." I decided to dig out the French press to make some coffee, taking the extra time to grind the beans and boil some water on the stove. Hawke busied herself with wandering the apartment, probably re-acquainting herself with the space in the light of day. I pulled out a mug, but nearly forgot my manners. "Want some coffee, Hawke? I use a special Jamaican blend. It's like liquid gold in a cup." I held up the bag as she re-entered the room.
She shook her head. "No, thank you. I don't drink coffee." She reached around me to grab a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water instead. I gave her a queer look. What red-blooded American doesn't drink coffee? "That reminds me, I caught a glimpse of your musical tastes and we're pretty similar in that respect. Any musicians you hate? I despise Sarah McLachlan. Ever since she started doing those ASPCA commercials, I can't hear her voice without crying like a baby. Oh, and Norah Jones. My mom loves her, but she puts me right to sleep."
I glided onto the stool next to her, sipping my coffee between two hands. "Billy Joel. The Beeb. Avril Lavigne. You know, whiny bitches." I crossed my legs and righted my slipping robe, attempting to keep things polite. As amazing as a second round would be at some point, the last thing I wanted was to end up with my feet in the air before some caffeine was in my system.
"So, no Uptown Girl. Noted. Favorite movie?" Hawke took to wiping down the kitchen and I almost reminded her that she was a guest, and didn't actually live here, but that might have seemed insulting or insensitive, so I bit my tongue. She wants to clean, let her go OCD all day long.
"Would you like the job interview answer, or the real one?" She gave me the 'what do you think' look and I cleared my throat. "The Princess and the Frog."
She chuckled a bit before sitting back down, her cleaning mission complete for the moment. "Well, if we're doing Disney, I'd have to give it a tie between the Lion King and the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I think Esmeralda was my first crush, before my mom told me she was a cartoon based on another fictional character. Though Serenity would be my favorite film overall. Mal is the shit and Kaylee makes me smile."
That figures. "So how does your mother handle the whole 'alternative lifestyle'? I can't imagine the Ohio countryside is the most accepting place when it comes to that sort of thing." I tried to eat as much of my breakfast as possible, but it was hard with Hawke watching me like… well, a hawk. When did eating slices of fruit become so inherently sexual? I don't think she realized she was doing it and when I made eye contact, she scratched her head and looked away.
I very much doubt she was actually interested in my print of Monet's Sailboat, but she was looking quite intently at where it hung on the wall to the left of the kitchen area. "She… doesn't know. Just Bethany, Carver, and maybe my dad. My mom was always trying to get me to go out and spend time with 'nice young men' and he always found a way to get me out of it. Luckily, after getting the shit kicked out of me by four teenage boys, she gave up on trying to find me a husband."
"Ah. Small victories, I suppose." I finished my coffee, still trying to figure out why I was asking about the Hawke family. Sure, Cassandra was my girlfriend now, and that was nice, but I was never the 'bring home to mom' type of girl. Most God-fearing mothers would probably run screaming at the sight of me, and rightly so. According to my reputation, I'm a home-wrecking nymphomaniac with limited morals and enough money to make anyone disappear. Oh, and I have a good collection of pointy objects. At least that part's true. But in my defense, Roger never told me he was married, let alone to another man. Talk about awkward.
"Like with Merrill, it just hasn't come up." Hawke shrugged warily and hopped onto her feet.
I finished the last few bites of food on my plate. "Speaking of Kitten, you should check your phone. She probably wants you back by now." I glanced up at the roommate, who was sliding behind me, obviously not concerned with her cell.
"Are you trying to get rid of me, Isabela?" Strong hands drifted down the sides of my robe before cradling my hips. Hawke dipped her head to kiss my exposed neck and I was powerless to stop her, even if I wanted to. No one has ever made me melt. No one except a certain rugby player first thing on a Sunday morning. My eyes drifted closed as she scraped her teeth along my pulse.
"No. I have a standing lunch date with Varric every Sunday. If you don't feel like going back to your dorm yet, Cassandra, you can join us." The things this woman does to me.
"Lunch with an ex-mobster mogul and a Pirate Queen? How can I say no?" Hawke placed a final kiss against my cheek before reaching around to grab my plate. I shivered as she stepped away to the sink, bereft of her touch. If she noticed it, she said nothing. She rinsed my dishes, placed them in the dishwasher, and turned it on.
I stood as she rounded the island, pressing myself against her chest and lacing my fingers behind her neck."Pirate Queen, eh?" Hawke wrapped her arms around my waist and smirked brazenly.
"Of the Eastern Seas, to be precise."
Even her nicknames overdose on flattery. Makes me feel kind of sexy, though… "I like it."
"I thought you might." I kissed the smug smile right off her face, dragging my hands down her body and into the front pockets of her jeans. I brought us as close as possible before allowing my lips to migrate toward her neck. I could feel my robe beginning to shift, the knot nearly undone against Hawke's stomach.
"Would you like to escort said royalty back to the bedroom and help me with today's wardrobe?"
I felt her chest rumble and her voice deepened. "I don't think I'll be of much assistance in getting you into clothes."
I used my teeth to tug lightly at the bottom of her ear. "Perhaps not, but it's an excuse to see me naked again."
"Sold!" I slunk back and took her hand, leading her back to the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed (which she had apparently taken time to make while I made coffee), watching quietly. I untied my robe, allowing it to slip slowly off of my shoulders and onto the floor. I knew without looking that Hawke was eyeing me wantonly as I opened my closet. I inspected the contents for a moment, but couldn't make up my mind.
"What do you think, Cassandra?" I looked over my shoulder to find her staring back at me, eyes dark and face flushed. I couldn't hide the sly grin on my lips, knowing just how aroused she was and proud to be the cause.
"Clothes are overrated." Her hands were on her knees, knuckles pale with the effort of staying still. A lesser man or woman would have impatiently dragged me back to the bed by now, but I got the distinct impression that Hawke was raised better than that and my tired muscles were grateful. Other parts? Much less so.
I pulled out two casual dresses and held them side by side. "Hm. How about black or white?" The first was a simple black V-neck knee-length dress with some gold embroidery, the second was a white scoop-neck dress that rested about mid-thigh and had a black belt for around the waist.
"White, I guess." She practically grunted the words, only interested in speeding the process. I placed the other dress back in the closet and ruffled Hawke's hair before making my way to the vanity to pull out some white undergarments. She really is adorable when she's flustered. She stayed in place, but popped up the second I started cursing the closure of my dress.
"Zip me?" I asked her politely. Like music to my ears! Hawke slowly waltzed behind me, enjoying the view before easing the zipper closed.
It was no shock when she stuck around, her fingertips lingering on my hipbones. "Out of curiosity, what do you do when there isn't anyone around to help you into your skintight dresses?" Her voice was light and full of mirth. She obviously liked my fashion sense, or at least the amount of uncovered flesh that came along with it.
I set some simple jewelry aside. "Wear something else. Or call Varric."
"I see." Hawke's voice was cold and rough, almost threatening, and her hands tensed against me. I quickly turned to face her.
"No, we were never… We joke a bit, but he has no interest in women of our stature." I shook my head and she relaxed, dropping her arms to her sides. The situation diffused, I went in search for shoes. I chose a more conservative pair of three-inch heels, since this was not a date.
Hawke flopped back on the bed in a huff. "I'm sorry, Isabela. I guess I'm the jealous type, huh?"
"Yes, but you're my type, remember?" I cooed as I made my way to the bathroom. It took a lot of cover-up and base to mask the love-bites on my neck. I'm going to have to start calling her 'Hoover'. I put the finishing touches on my outfit, triple checked my make-up, and fixed my hair. With the mirror's assurance that I looked far less tired than I felt, I strolled back into the bedroom. Good as it's going to get.
Cassandra's eyes lit up when she saw me and she quickly closed the distance between us. She stood at arm's length with her hands on my waist, looking me over with her nerdy little smile. My choice of shoes may have made us nearly of equal height, but I instantly felt ten feet tall. "God, you just don't know how not to be beautiful." In the blink of an eye, she was wrapped around me, holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world. I acquiesced, allowing her to draw out the hug. But I had to pinch her side when her nose stud started to drift over my jaw.
"Ah, ah, ah. Behave yourself, Hawke. If you try to kiss my neck, you're going to get a mouth full of cosmetics."
She pulled back to face me, with a wicked smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Then where can I kiss you?"
I did kind of walk into that one. "In front of Varric? Keep it civil. Right now…? Let's go with above the waist." Hawke's eyes immediately drifted down to my chest and she bit her bottom lip.
"How about later?" And now it's hot in here…
I swallowed down some much needed air before her eyes flicked back to mine, bright blue and menacing. "Are you asking for a blank check?"
"I'm just starting to consider adding my own 'whenever, wherever' clause to our girlfriend agreement." Because right now, I want to kiss every inch of you. Cassandra's hands settled at my hips, tensing momentarily over the bruises she had left the night prior. I held back a wince, but she must have caught the action, as her fingers splayed out over the area, relieving the pressure.
"I believe you may have misunderstood. I meant 'wherever' as in physical location, not anatomical."
Hawke's strong hands glided up to my ribs and she took a half step forward. "I'm afraid such dilemmas give favor to the challenger." And challenging was exactly the emotion her eyes conveyed. Any other woman would have been weak-kneed and trembling and although I was somewhat aroused, I had played this game before.
She's getting a bit big for her breeches! "Not until after lunch, they don't." I jabbed a single finger into her sternum and backed away, retreating to the kitchen. I sat in a stool, typing a quick message to confirm Varric's attendance at our usual spot. By the time I sent the text, I could feel Hawke behind me.
"It's ironic, really. Yesterday I thought you were a rapist. Today I'm the lecher who can't stop thinking about how much better you look without that dress…" The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as she reached for me, and I quickly slid from the stool and onto my feet.
"And to think, the day is still young! In fact, it's only 9:30 now, so we've got a few hours before Varric will be in the mood for a midday meal." I rushed over to my office, piling the papers on my desk together in an attempt to look busy. I wasn't intending to be so outright rude, but my thighs and stomach still burned from struggling and writhing uncontrollably for nearly two hours under Hawke's ministrations. Even the gentlest of touches would hurt, and not just in a 'rough love' kind of way.
Cassandra sighed as she leaned against the wall. Alright 'Bela; point taken. I could practically hear the rejection in her voice. "What do you usually do on Sunday mornings? Cartoons, yoga, sci-fi marathons?"
"Assignments and/or light reading." I motioned to my bookshelves as I tucked some folders into my desk drawer. Hawke stood up straight and reached for my hand, a look of pure excitement on her face.
"Then let's go to a bookstore! That way I can be a total dork, and no one will notice!" She was smiling like a kid on Christmas, trapping my hand enthusiastically between her own. I halfway expected her to start bouncing up and down.
As much as it would have pained me to admit, I honestly found her innocent demeanor completely endearing. How can she go from homophile to bibliophile in two seconds flat? I like literature as much as the next woman, but I've never seen someone nearly climax at the idea of book shopping. I decided to try and redirect her attentions, lest her over-animation carry over into a long car ride. "Hawke, if we walk into a bookstore arm-in-arm, I can guarantee that every nerdling in the county will notice." I gave a sideways grin and she clutched my hand tighter.
"They'd better notice that you're my girlfriend, or every 'nerdling' in the county will get a swift kick in the ass." The winger gave a single commanding nod before pulling me toward the front door. I shook my head and allowed her to hand me my purse. Cassandra was already flipping the deadbolt and reaching for the knob before I grabbed her elbow.
"Don't forget your jacket!" I pulled the garment off of the coat rack and handed it to her. Hawke threw it over her shoulder and I groaned. "Come here." She raised a skeptical eyebrow as I led her in front of the foyer mirror. She allowed me to slide her into the jacket, but it wasn't quite the look I was going for. The sleeves were at her wrist, even in their relaxed state, and it gave me an idea. I rolled them up to her elbows and tucked the excess underneath, then buttoned only the middle button. Had I a fedora, Hawke would have rocked the Michael Jackson look. I took a moment to consider my creation in the mirror. "That works for you. Very 'geek chic'." I gave the girl a wink and a pat on the ass for humoring me.
Cassandra chuckled and flattened her collar, admiring her reflection. Not bad. "I'm going to have to start dressing better when you're around. I mean, you're always going to upstage me, but I'd hate to embarrass you by looking all frumpy." She pushed her hair back with her palms before I dragged her away from the mirror. Hawke was obviously going to spend hours in the bookstore, and I wanted to get her moving so that we didn't miss our lunch appointment.
"A wise woman once told me 'clothes are overrated'. But if you feel strongly about it, I can take you shopping." I opened the front door and beamed at her.
"Hm. Maybe later." Hawke shrugged as I pushed her out the door. "But no lingerie stores!" She exclaimed adamantly.
I snickered playfully at her as I left my apartment, closing the door behind us. "Killjoy."
Author's Note: In case you're wondering, yes, Hawke does have mild Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Also, I am currently working on the compass rose design I envision as Isabela's tattoo. Once I get it done, it will most likely become the cover art for this story.