we're always running scared but holding knives
Snorting in a very unladylike fashion, Isla can't help but give a shrug of acknowledgement. "Perhaps it's both. She's in love with you and hates herself for it, so... here we are." Does it help or make it worse, though? Isla suspects the latter. Turning her hand beneath his so she might give his fingers a warm squeeze he probably won't feel, she follows Remi's gaze towards her bag.
"You know, it's like you can read my mind." Smiling a little easier and reluctantly releasing her grip on him to fetch the IV pouches, Isla nods towards the towel and dry clothes. "I know you don't feel it, but I'd feel a lot less like a monster if you didn't have to sit around in wet clothes," she says. "I can set this up if you want to change?"
"You know, it's like you can read my mind." Smiling a little easier and reluctantly releasing her grip on him to fetch the IV pouches, Isla nods towards the towel and dry clothes. "I know you don't feel it, but I'd feel a lot less like a monster if you didn't have to sit around in wet clothes," she says. "I can set this up if you want to change?"
Isla
