01-01-2010, 08:06 PM
When he saw that Isis wasn't in the room, Lost frowned . . . until he heard her frightened outburst from the wardrobe. Moving over to her hiding place, the damp doll slowly opened it a bit, looking inside to find his friend. "Isis," he whispered, moving to sit beside her in the small space. The expression on his face was one of worry, a rare show from Lost - but worth it. Reaching foward, his dark hand brushed against her cheek, and he pulled her toward him. Whispering a few words of comfort, he hugged the girl to him gently, running a hand through her hair.
She was frightened. He didn't want her to be so.
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