As Isabella emerged from the restroom, a radiant smile lit up her face. Her eyes met Sarah's suspicious gaze, but she didn't seem fazed. Azazel stood nearby, his charismatic presence drawing attention from those around them. Sarah quickly pulled Isabella aside, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
"What were you doing in the restroom with Azazel?" Sarah asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Isabella's smile widened, but she remained silent, teasing Sarah with her playful demeanour. Sensing her friend's persistence, Isabella leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, Sarah, We were just having a little chat."
Sarah's eyes narrowed, unconvinced by Isabella's vague response. She leaned in closer, her words barely audible. "Did you both do something... intimate?"
Isabella's expression shifted to confusion as she pondered Sarah's insinuation. "Something like what?" she asked innocently, genuinely unaware of Sarah's line of thinking.
Seizing the opportunity, Sarah whispered into Isabella's ear, her voice filled with mischief. "You know... that stuff a man and woman do when they're alone."
Isabella's eyes widened in surprise at Sarah's boldness. She couldn't help but let out a playful laugh. "Oh, Sarah! You're such a naughty girl!" she exclaimed, playfully swatting Sarah's arm.
Azazel, observing the exchange from a short distance, briefly glanced their way before returning to his seat. His eyes held a mix of amusement and understanding as if he found their banter entertaining. Isabella smiled and heads to the Bookshelves to search for clues to break the curse
She browsed through the shelves of dusty books, her fingers gently running over the spines as she sought any clue that could aid in breaking Azazel's curse. The library was dimly lit, casting an air of mystery upon the ancient tomes that lined the shelves. As she delved into the pages, Azazel's gaze lingered upon her, his eyes following her every move.
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable under Azazel's penetrating stare, Isabella finally broke her silence. "Azazel, can you please quit looking at me as if I'm some sort of criminal?" Her voice carried a mixture of frustration and confusion.
Azazel remained unmoved, his gaze fixed upon her. His silence only intensified Isabella's irritation. She could no longer bear the weight of his scrutinizing gaze.
"Why don't you go find clues about breaking the curse instead of constantly staring at me?" Isabella's voice rose with her anger, her words carrying a tinge of defiance.
Azazel finally responded, his voice cool and detached. "I cannot help you find a way to break the curse. It is your duty unless you wish to breach our deal."
The weight of Azazel's words sank heavily upon Isabella. She knew he held the key to her liberation, and yet he refused to offer any assistance. The frustration mounted within her, but she also understood the rules they had agreed upon.
Realizing she wouldn't win an argument with Azazel, Isabella made a firm decision. With a mixture of anger and resignation, she rose from her seat, pushing her chair back abruptly. "Fine. If you won't help me, then I will find a way on my own."
Without looking back, Isabella strode out of the library, her determination fueling her steps. She knew that she couldn't rely on Azazel's aid any longer and resolved to seek her path towards breaking the curse that held him captive.
A few minutes after Isabella left, Azazel's frustration grew. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being powerless, confined within the boundaries of the curse. Seeking a distraction, he slowly rose from his seat, his movements deliberate and calculated. With a sense of purpose, he made his way through the labyrinth of bookshelves, his eyes scanning the spines for any mention of his own name.
As he picked up a book and began flipping through its pages, his attention was unexpectedly drawn to a nearby group of teenagers engaged in an animated conversation. They were discussing a historic battle between Balthazar, Azazel's Father, and himself. Their voices carried excitement and fervor as they recounted the details of the epic duel, their words painted with vivid descriptions that seemed as if they had been present at the clash.
Azazel's anger flared, his grip on the book tightening until his knuckles turned white. How could they discuss such an event as if it were a spectator sport? The fire within him burned, fueled by the indignation of being misrepresented and diminished in the retelling of his own story.
Unable to contain his rage any longer, Azazel stormed towards the group of teenagers, his eyes blazing with an intense fury. The air crackled with his wrath as he approached them, his voice cutting through the room like a thunderous roar.
"Leave here now, or regret it," he barked at the boys, his tone dripping with authority and danger. The sudden intensity of his presence sent shivers down their spines, freezing them in their tracks.
Fear seized hold of the boys as they recognized the ferocity emanating from Azazel. Without a moment's hesitation, they turned on their heels and sprinted towards the exit, their hurried footsteps echoing through the library.
Azazel watched their retreating figures, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Though the encounter provided a brief outlet for his frustrations, he knew that it would take more than intimidating a group of teenagers to break the curse that bound him. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his solitary quest for knowledge, determined to find a way to rewrite his own narrative and break free from the chains that held him captive.
As Isabella witnessed the boys fleeing in fear, her heart raced with concern. She knew that something was amiss, that Azazel had played a part in their terror. Determined to get answers, she rushed over to where he stood, her emotions boiling over.
"What did you do to those boys?" Isabella's voice trembled with a mix of anger and worry, her eyes narrowing as she confronted Azazel.
Azazel, consumed by his own thoughts, continued to read the book in front of him, seemingly ignoring Isabella's presence and her desperate question. His silence infuriated her further, intensifying her need for an explanation.
Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Isabella reached out and grabbed Azazel by the hand, her grip tight and determined. She pulled him forcefully, demanding his attention.
In response, Azazel turned towards her, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that sent chills down Isabella's spine. The fire within him mirrored the anger in his voice as he retorted, "Don't push your luck, mortal."
The weight of his words struck Isabella like a physical blow, causing her to take a few hesitant steps back. Fear gripped her, momentarily overpowering her determination. She had underestimated the depth of Azazel's power and the danger that lay within him.
Silence settled between them, the tension palpable in the air. Isabella's heart raced, torn between her desire for answers and the instinct to protect herself from the wrath of a being far beyond her comprehension.