The Allure

The stairway up to your bedroom door had always been so exhausting... it was strange arriving at it and not being out of breath. Staring at the large sign on the front, you came to a revelation that made you grin.

A memory flashed, an old but subtle one, of you and your father; you couldn't have been twelve, maybe thirteen years old when you stood Infront of your bedroom door, the heavy boom of hammering through the Manor.

You were small then, short and weak, as you had always been and you wobbled and struggled to swing the hammer at the nail which squeaked as it penetrated the hard oak door.

"You do realized that is 50 year old polished oak, your hammering into right, Boy?"

The voice, hard and seasoned made the memory of yourself jolt "Woah!" You stumbled nearly tumbling off of your stool, but a dexterous hand caught your back and steadied you, pushing carefully at your back to balance your footing.

Young and angsty as you were, Your thirteen year old self grimaced "Diana, I told you to stop being so touchy, I-"

However, you eyes met with the sharp silver of much more seasoned orbs. Roman looked at the nail in the door and your heart sunk. "D-Dad... I'm... I'm sorry I just, I wanted to--"

Roman halted you with a gesture, tall, dark and bearded as he was. The Iciness of his cold visage seemed to falter a little, as he curiously pointed to the wide sign, clutched tightly in your little arms.

"What does it say?" He asked.

You were hesitant.

"Show me." He coaxed lightly with nary a trace of anger in his voice as you suspected, perhaps that was why you slowly unveiled the sign which read "Alchemist inside do not, disturb!!!" You always had loved full metal alchemist, even dressing up in an a Edward Eric costume once for Halloween... which also just happened to be your birthday.

Your Dad actually smiled at this and took the sign, holding it in place "Focus less on swinging the hammer, and more on hitting the nail."

Small as you were, you gripped the heavy hammer in your small fingers, eyes narrowing to gaze through the lenses of your small glasses, capturing the nail, predicting the path towards the head of the nail and swinging carefully.

Boom, boom, boom it struck perfectly each time, and Roman nodded "Good, Accuracy over Strength, Control over power."

You stared at the sign still nailed to your door, dusted clean doubtlessly by Cleo and her legion of butlers... it was a good memory, even if it was only small compliment, like a nail struck into a door, it would stick with you forever.

Turning the brass handle, the smell of Lavender incense and a soft flowery perfume filled your nostrils. Blinking as you entered your old room, You found Izzy sat cross legged on your bed face buried in what you immediately recognized to be one of your sketchbooks. She had also lit up a couple of your incense sticks by the window, Mystic Wave it was called. "Made yourself at home then?" You chuckled.

She shrugged flicking the page to look at your old scribblings. The pile of clothes folded neatly behind her however justified her fiddling through your childhood possessions. Isabella chose a casual pair of loose short and a white tee for you, clearly focused on comfort, although her eyes did flutter to you subtly as you removed your towel and slipped into the loose apparel "I like your portraits, they are... quite detailed, very vivid." Her fingers traced over the Sketch you made years ago, of a tall arching castle with sharp black battlements, each of it's Five towers erupting into the Moonlit sky, solitary and dark at peak of a shadowed mountain.

"I used to have dreams when I was a kid, I'd speed through every part of that Castle, faster than you could possibly imagine, absorbing every portrait, every furnishing, and I'd hear this voice, singing to me, even now I remember it..."

Isabella turned curiously, absorbing the gentle contemplation in your red eyes. "Was it a real song?"

You nodded "The River song, you know, from the Prince of Egypt?"

"I used to watch that with my Mamá, it is a beautiful song."

You felt something stir, your lips became tight as your breath caught in your throat.

Izzy saw the growing mist in your eyes, softening and touching your hand "What's wrong?"

Sniffing and rubbing your eyes, you blinked the very sudden empty feeling inside away and smiled "I urr, I don't actually know, hehe." You chuckled "Weird right? that happens a lot lately, one minute I'm fine then I see or hear something, the boom, flash flood of odd feelings."

Looking on quietly, the Latina beauty allowed you a moment of silence, clutching your hand tighter, before shuffling next to you with your sketch book, looking over the shadowy art that You scribbled on many a sleepless night.

Pausing curtly on one in particular, Izzy raised a curious eyebrow as she saw a deeply detailed picture of Jane, her cheek round and full of youth, with her big smiling eyes captured in a laugh "You drew portraits?"

"Not often." You admitted "I got worried sometimes when I was a kid... that I didn't appreciate the things I had, I thought that capturing the image, it would preserve it. My dad was cold, he'd move on from things so fast I don't even think he ever thought of the day before, always the next week, the next month, I didn't want to be like that..."

Izzy turned the page to teenage Diana, an image that would have been nostalgic under different circumstances, sat at the dinner table. She looked directly at You and Izzy, giving a subtle smile while prodding her Mac & Cheese with a finely polished fork.

"...I wanted to prove that the things in my life meant something to me..." You had to smile, because you knew what was on the other side of the page that she now turned. A chill ran through her, eyes slowly widening as she froze in place.

With a nose a little to big for her face, and wavy black hair, tanned skin and wide lips A young Isabella Salvador looked at the old.

"...That the things I love meant something to me."

Her lips curled into a sunny and genuine smile, closing the sketch book and standing to place it back at your old desk.

She lingered for a moment, swirling a finger around on the soft texture of your mouse matt "I meant what I said earlier, Guapo. The way I treated you, it was such a waste, I was jealous and stupid, even with all the magic in the world, I'd give it all up to go back and try again."

"We are past that now, you don't need to beat yourself over it." She had hurt you, but you had hurt her too "I'm not innocent of anything, knowing what I do now, perhaps it was even justified."

She turned and looked at you, and though she still had her piercing stare, it seemed so filled with passion that any thought of the past, had passed.

Her hips quaked, as she came towards the bed, crawling slowly to pronounce all of her assets; Izzy was truly a buxom girl of some calibre, she'd flowered into truly beautiful woman, a Hispanic goddess with hair pale as snow and skin that seemed to shine like bronze. Laying down, Izzy looked back to you... her ass did too, a peach painted in the fur of her pajama pants "Lay with me." Her tone, slightly accented, drew you in like a fish on a line.

Wrapping and arm around her full waist, Isabella took your arm and entrapped it in her hands, allowing herself to be immersed in you as you spooned. "Hmmmm." She hummed warmly, her ass pressed into your groin, nestled comfortably.

This was a dream, it scrubbed away the bleakness of tonight, and left only a complete calm, a deep sense of comfort. Perhaps that's why you felt so confident, Yourself and Izzy didn't often have deep talks, and now felt like a good time.

"My turn to ask questions now." You whispered.

She looked up at you with her eyes which were now so midnight black that they reflected the crimson of your own. "Okay, but no Witch stuff"

"The Allure. You know about it right?"

She turned her eyes away "Yes."

"What does it feel like, from your perspective... is it, overpowering, just physical, emotional, primal?" You'd had thoughts on the Allure, especially after Morrigan, it was true that Male descendants let out an aura of excellence, it drew in Mortal women, screamed I have Uber genes, prepare to breed But in all honesty, while the idea was truly a fantasy, the thought of it made you slightly uncomfortable.

"You worry that without it, no girls would be interested in you like they are now?" There came those piercing eyes again "Like I am now?"

"I've met plenty of mind readers but-"

"I thought about it to." She professed, "it was one of the reasons why I was so apprehensive to make amends with you. It gets exhausting carrying hatred for someone for something unreasonable, the questioning if that feeling of a warm return is even real. In truth, It isn't really anything special, or maybe that's exactly what it is?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it isn't some special power that you activate, like an incantation, you don't cast a spell on women, Charlie. It's..." She thought for a moment "It's that smile you give, that warms the heart just when it's at its coldest, it's your understanding words, your charm, your laugh, it's the look in your eyes when you find out someone you love is in pain, the determination to protect, to help... It's how even when you meet your worst enemy, you find a way to make a place in your heart for them. It's finding my portrait in your Sketchbook. the Allure isn't a power, the allure is You."