EVEREST
Boyishly attentive, Ever's expression melts from thoughtful to amused as he snorts under his breath. "As you said before, it isn't hard to find. Besides, from everything I've seen so far I'd be a fool not to trust in your instincts."
Indeed he did know where, and so with a sprig of melody caught between his lips, the aviator ducks out into the hall where he easily finds said supply closet. It takes only moments in the nearby bathroom to remove his shirt and douse his (very) sunburned shoulders with the water. Immediately he can feel the sting and heat begin to lessen, and it's with a long sigh that pours the remaining water down his back. Cleaning the sink and floor with one of the towels before returning to Isla with his shirt balled up in one hand, (to let himself dry without scrubbing at his irritated skin), he peers over one shoulder at the map she was creating.
Now, had this been a scene from one of Mateo's books, he'd perhaps have whispered something in her ear. A word of simple thanks, perhaps, and when she turned he'd lean one arm over her head, caging her against her desk. Or perhaps he'd ask her to check him over for any other marks that might need seeing to. There might have been a million things Everest could have done, if only he had the experience to know which he might like to do, and pair such scenarios with the ones he thought Isla too might like. Alas, it was only with curiosity that he came to her and a murmur of thanks for the water.
Indeed he did know where, and so with a sprig of melody caught between his lips, the aviator ducks out into the hall where he easily finds said supply closet. It takes only moments in the nearby bathroom to remove his shirt and douse his (very) sunburned shoulders with the water. Immediately he can feel the sting and heat begin to lessen, and it's with a long sigh that pours the remaining water down his back. Cleaning the sink and floor with one of the towels before returning to Isla with his shirt balled up in one hand, (to let himself dry without scrubbing at his irritated skin), he peers over one shoulder at the map she was creating.
Now, had this been a scene from one of Mateo's books, he'd perhaps have whispered something in her ear. A word of simple thanks, perhaps, and when she turned he'd lean one arm over her head, caging her against her desk. Or perhaps he'd ask her to check him over for any other marks that might need seeing to. There might have been a million things Everest could have done, if only he had the experience to know which he might like to do, and pair such scenarios with the ones he thought Isla too might like. Alas, it was only with curiosity that he came to her and a murmur of thanks for the water.
the boards will still creak
the leaves will still die
the leaves will still die
