seveninchmotto: ([neu] Princess.)
This was it.

The last of Isabelle's things were packed up. Her vanity table was already on its way to New York. The closets were empty, the floor clear of all her clothing clutter. She'd just finished pushing the beds apart to return the room to the two-person abode it was meant to be, and was now standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded.

It didn't look like her anymore. There were probably residual flecks of glitter that would be sticking around for a long while, but that was all. This wasn't hers, anymore. She was moving back to bigger things. A whole big future and a life of great purpose.

She hadn't expected to feel these melancholy pangs.

Maybe she was actually going to miss this, a tiny bit.

[ooc: Open door, open post which is coincidentally also Izzy's last in Fandom for a while!]

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Isabelle Lightwood

November 2018

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