sad eyes on happy faces

Isla take your medicine Tutting softly, Isla gives Sunjata's chest a gentle pat with her hand. "I don't think everyone hates you at all," she murmurs softly. "And if they feel annoyed with you, it's probably because they care about you. You're just afraid of that, of people caring." Her meeting with Remi has struck her to the core with some home truths about herself, and apparently it (and the liquor, let's be honest) is allowing her to deliver them, too. Shifting comfortably as his arm slips around her, Isla closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before letting it out on a long sigh; the scent of botanicals is fading now, and to the Remedy, Sunjata is seasalt and honey and whiskey. Huffing out a soft laugh, she raises an eyebrow up at him. "Let's hope your doctor is sober enough to catch the signs," she says. "Otherwise just shove me out of bed if you get too hot."