#isabelle2

Alan had never gotten Isabelle's number, but she didn't really seem that interested in him. He wasn't interested in pursuing something that he pretty much had no hopes for. Sure, he still thought about her, but nothing more.

Blaise had been writing consistently for two months straight while Isabelle was back home in Montressor. Her letters were the only thing he had to look forward to lately and he treasured every one. At the beginning the letters were simple, filled with their usual banter and Isabelle's silliness. But after awhile, the letters changed. Sure there was still the playfulness, along with it though were feelings. The more letters the two had exchanged, the more meaningful they became. This scared Blaise. He didn't know what to do. It was shortly after the girl had left that he realized how strong his feelings for her were. There were nights that he would play back that fateful day at the waterfall, half of him wishing he hadn't stopped, the other half cursing him for letting it happen at all. Deep down he knew he wasn't right for Isabelle. She was young, she didn't have to deal with him and all his bitterness.

Spending hours and hours thinking all this over at the tavern, Blaise came to the drunken conclusion that if he stopped writing to her then all of this would just slow down and simmer out. It was hard to commit to this though. Pain and sorrow rushed through every time he received a letter and didn't write her a reply.

After three weeks of this, Blaise decided he needed a distraction. A distraction with someone his own age and with whom he wouldn't be racked with guilt for being with. Using his brothers techniques, which was essentially just looking attractive and showing of the muscles, Blaise found some girl to take his mind off Isabelle. It was working too. The girl was nothing like Isabelle, she couldn't have been more different if she tried. Being with her was easy though. She didn't make him think too much, and she definitely didn't make him feel anything.