Isabella and Azazel found themselves in Isabella's room, sitting together as they had discussed earlier. Isabella perched comfortably on Azazel's lap, her head resting against his chest. The warmth of their connection was interrupted by Azazel's question, breaking the tranquility that enveloped them.
"Why didn't you tell me that it was your first time?" Azazel inquired, his voice gentle yet filled with curiosity. Isabella's shyness overtook her, causing her to avert her gaze, attempting to evade his question. But Azazel, tenderly turned her face towards him.
"Isabella, you don't have to be shy around me," Azazel reassured her, his voice filled with understanding. "I know we didn't start on the best foot, but I truly believe we're in a better place now. We can be open with each other."
Isabella's cheeks flushed, her eyes meeting Azazel's in an intimate moment. She felt a sense of vulnerability dissipate, replaced by a newfound trust in their connection. She was about to respond when the sound of the front door opening caught their attention.
Isabella swiftly got up from Azazel's lap, and he followed her out of the room, curious about the unexpected visitor. Azazel's question lingered in the air as they approached the living room.
"Are you expecting anybody?" Azazel inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
"No, I'm not," Isabella replied, a slight hint of worry in her voice. Together, they entered the living room, and Isabella's face immediately lit up with joy as she spotted her father standing there.
"Daddy!" Isabella exclaimed, a mix of excitement and relief flooding her. She ran towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. It had been far too long since she had last seen him, and the longing for her father's presence had grown in her heart.
"I missed you so much, Dad," Isabella murmured, her voice filled with genuine emotion.
Her father chuckled, gently teasing her. "You missed me, and yet you didn't come to check up on me?"
Isabella smiled a hint of guilt in her expression. "I'm sorry, Dad. I should have come to see you. But things have been... complicated."
Her father nodded, accepting her apology with a loving gaze. His eyes then shifted to Azazel, curiosity evident in his gaze as he took in the presence of a young man in their living room.
"And who is this young man?" her father inquired, his tone filled with both interest and protectiveness.
Isabella glanced at Azazel, a smile gracing her lips. "Dad, meet Azazel. He's my friend, and he's been there for me when I needed someone the most. Azazel, meet my father."
Azazel extended his hand toward Isabella's father, introducing himself politely. "Nice to meet you, Mr. ..."
Isabella's father reciprocated the gesture, shaking Azazel's hand firmly. "Smith," he completed Azazel's greeting, offering a warm smile in return. "Nice to meet you as well, Azazel."
With the introductions complete, a silence settled in the room, creating a moment pregnant with unspoken questions and anticipation. The air was thick with emotions, and each individual wondered what would come next.
Isabella's father broke the silence, his voice gentle yet filled with curiosity. "Isabella, my dear, you never cease to surprise me. I must admit, I didn't expect to come to your place and find a young man in your living room."
Isabella blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. "Dad, I know it may be unexpected, but Azazel has been a great friend to me. He's been there for me when I needed someone the most."
He let out a deep sigh, realizing that his daughter had grown and made choices of her own. With a warm smile, he spoke, his voice filled with fatherly love.
"Well, my little girl is not so little anymore," Mr. Smith said, his tone filled with a mix of pride and bittersweetness. "If you believe in this young man, Isabella, then I trust your judgment."
Isabella's father turned his attention towards Azazel, his curiosity evident in his eyes as he began his line of questioning. "Where are you from? What do you do? And what about your parents?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine interest.
Azazel found himself momentarily taken aback, trying to formulate a suitable response. Before he could gather his thoughts, Isabella stepped in to rescue him from the sudden interrogation.
"Dad, he's not from this country," Isabella interjected, her voice gentle yet firm. "He flew in for business, and once he's done, he'll return home."
Isabella's father turned his gaze towards Azazel, his expression thoughtful as he absorbed the information. He proceeded to inquire further, his curiosity still piqued. "And what about your parents?"
Isabella was about to speak up again, wanting to provide an answer, but her father silenced her with a stern glance. His words held a gentle reprimand, reminding her to let Azazel speak for himself.
"Young lady, I wasn't talking to you," her father stated firmly. "Or can't Azazel speak for himself?"
Azazel's lips curved into a warm smile as he appreciated Isabella's father's desire to hear directly from him. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding.
"I don't have a mother," Azazel began, his voice steady and composed. "But my father and younger brother are back at home."
Isabella's father observed Azazel intently, assessing him as he processed the information. After a few moments of contemplation, he finally spoke, his tone carrying a mix of acceptance and understanding.
"Okay then, since Isabella considers you a friend, I have no problem with you," her father declared, his voice softened by a hint of warmth. Isabella's face lit up with joy at her father's acceptance, and she eagerly pulled him to take a seat.
With the tension diffused and a sense of acceptance settling in the room, Isabella's father made himself comfortable. Azazel took a seat nearby, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. The air became lighter, and they all settled into a moment of calm.
"So Dad, how have you been?" Isabella asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Her father smiled, a warmth radiating from his eyes as he took in his daughter's caring nature. "I've been alright, sweetheart," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "It gets lonely without you around, but I manage."
Isabella's grip on her father's hand tightened slightly, a mixture of guilt and love flooding her heart. "I'm sorry for leaving you, Dad. I wanted to protect you, but I realize now that being apart only caused more pain."
Her father squeezed her hand gently, offering her a reassuring smile. "Isabella, you don't have to apologize. I understand why you made that choice, and I'm proud of the strong, independent woman you've become."
Azazel, witnessing the heartfelt exchange between father and daughter, couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for their bond. He quietly observed the tenderness that emanated from their interactions, His father was different. Balthazar didn't care about his sons and was quick to scold or punish them. "Is this how all mortal parents care for their children?" Azazel thought to himself.