Short Stories: Afterward [Isaac & Theo Version]

Author's Note: I decided to post this POV now because, as much as I'd love to include it in the main story, I'm unsure if there will be room for it there.

So, if you prefer to avoid reading potential scenes that may appear in the main story, I can't recommend reading this story.

The sound of pencil strokes against the paper blends with the stillness of the room as Isaac remains fully focused on the sketchbook in his hands.

It had been a while since he last picked up a pencil, but that changed when they arrived in Fallenmor... among many other things.

His wrist aches from the pressure he's unconsciously applying to the pencil, and he has to force himself to control his grip.

For Isaac, drawing is all about control.

Every idea must be fully formed in his mind before it touches the paper.

Every stroke must be carefully considered before being placed on the surface.

Every artist must stay focused on the process, knowing when to move forward and when... to stop.

Snap. The graphite in the pencil breaks against the paper.

"…Ouch." An amused voice follows, and Isaac blinks, turning his head toward its owner.

Theo meets Isaac's gaze with a smirk, standing just behind the couch where Isaac is settled, his elbows propped on the backrest with his palms resting under his chin.

"How long have you been standing there?" Isaac asks with a small sigh, setting the sketchbook aside.

"A while," Theo admits casually, his gaze fixed on Isaac as he picks up a utility knife and begins sharpening the pencil. "I was waiting for you to notice me, but I got bored."

The prepared tools, the napkin to catch the shavings—everything has been set up by Isaac in advance.

As always.

Theo watches Isaac for a moment longer before his attention drifts to the sketchbook.

Without permission, he reaches for it, knowing Isaac would've left it face down if he didn't want anyone to see it.

"Drawing the detective with such photorealistic precision even without a reference..." Theo comments smugly, examining the sketch with playful curiosity. "I must say, I'm not surprised, considering the way you've been ogling the detective every possible second since we met."

Isaac gives him a side glance before returning his focus to the task at hand. "Are you here because you're bored, or...?"

Theo lets out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm waiting for Roderick to start the training, and I thought I'd check on you in case things get a little... extreme."

The corner of Isaac's lips twitches upward. "Morgan warned Roderick not to overdo it, so don't worry. Still, I hope you know better than to antagonize him—especially now, when I can't afford to waste energy on that either."

Theo's expression falls, and he places the sketchbook back down. "Being near the detective... does it help? With your condition?"

Isaac doesn't answer immediately, his gaze drifting to the incomplete sketch of the detective that he's been trying to finish.

This isn't the first time he's attempted to capture their features, but each time the image that forms in his mind blurs everything else.

Every contour tempts his intentions, evoking sensations triggered by nothing more than their presence—their voice, the depth of their eyes, the touch of their skin against his—everything that the paper can never fully capture.

Everything he shouldn't be feeling.

"It's… easier for me to control it when I'm close to them than from a distance, yes," Isaac says finally, his gaze returning to the pencil.

Theo hums thoughtfully. "Maybe you should ask the detective to pose for you. You know, combine the pleasant with the practical... I'm sure the detective wouldn't mind."

The suggestion sends a rush of heat through Isaac, and he has to fight against the rising tide of sensations and thoughts about how it could be... and where it could lead.

But, as always, Isaac forces these thoughts away, keeping his tone even as he responds, "That's something you would do, definitely not me."

"Don't give me ideas," Theo replies with a distinct intent in his tone, watching Isaac freeze as he processes the meaning of those words that cause him to turn his head toward his teammate.

Theo studies his expression with barely hidden smugness, trying to find any crack in Isaac's carefully guarded composure.

"I'm not Roderick, Theo," Isaac reminds him after a moment, turning away to check the sharpness of the pencil with the tip of his finger and setting the knife aside. "Don't try to provoke a reaction out of me. It doesn't work."

The lie slips from his lips effortlessly, but Theo doesn't need to know how easy it was to evoke such a strong, foolish reaction—especially if Isaac doesn't want Theo to try it again, afraid of what might happen next.

"Me? Trying to get a reaction? You wound me," Theo says dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Isaac suppresses an eye roll but remains silent, and Theo's expression turns serious. "I just want you to be honest with yourself. To stop holding back."

Stop holding back… Isaac's mind instantly fills with images of what happened last time when he stopped holding back.

When he lost control.

"This is the last thing we need right now," Isaac replies, his voice calm as he picks up the sketchbook again.

"What about what you need?" Theo retorts, exasperated. "You could use some unwinding. You've got everything you need for that… right in front of you."

The pencil hovers just above the paper, Isaac's hand refusing to move as his eyes fixate on the sketch of the detective that holds his gaze captive.

"And what will be afterward?" The question escapes Isaac before he can stop it, his eyes tracing the contours of the drawing, filled with longing.

A longing for something he knows will never come to pass.

"You know what? Forget what I said," Theo says slowly, causing Isaac to meet his gaze again. "If you're already thinking about what comes afterward, it's a bad idea."

Everything inside Isaac stills as those words pulse through his temples, each one igniting a burn that consumes him from the inside, numbing every feeling.

The daze breaks when he feels a warm squeeze on his shoulder, grounding him to the present.

Theo pulls his hand away only when Isaac's focus sharpens on him, his expression a mix of guilt, hopelessness, and something... darker.

Without offering any more words, Theo silently straightens up and turns to leave, his footsteps fading into silence.

Isaac lowers his gaze to the sketchbook in his hands once more, holding it with the tenderness and care he'll never be able to offer the detective.

The words, the sensations, and the truth all merge with the suffocating silence. Time seems to slow until the sharp sound of paper tearing shatters the stillness, the energy in the air crackling as the torn pieces meet the flames.

Isaac watches without a flicker of emotion as the image of the detective slowly fades into nothingness, but the ashes left behind mockingly remind him that even what he tries to erase won't disappear without leaving something afterward.

And the residue of his feelings will remain still.