we're always running scared but holding knives
Isla doesn't know what she expects, but what she gets is enough to strip away any sass or snark from her voice and expression, the doctor frowning as she lets her pebble blues dance over Remi's face. "What are you saying?" she whispers in return, holding the candle in such a way that its dazzle, combined with the angle of Remi's body, might block her response from the cameras. (Because it is obviously a blindspot, and the part of her that undoubtedly makes Remi want to kill himself makes a mental note to fix it as soon as possible).
"I..." she begins, exhaling a lengthy breath and shaking her head. "I am sorry. This is my fault." She reaches out, reconsiders, and then commits anyway, letting her fingers brush along the back of his hand. "This whole thing was meant to show your humanity, but I haven't treated you anything like you were human. I would be done, too."
"I..." she begins, exhaling a lengthy breath and shaking her head. "I am sorry. This is my fault." She reaches out, reconsiders, and then commits anyway, letting her fingers brush along the back of his hand. "This whole thing was meant to show your humanity, but I haven't treated you anything like you were human. I would be done, too."
Isla
