we're always running scared but holding knives
A soft laugh huffs from her lips despite how she can't seem to stop crying now that she's started, Isla nodding against Remi's shoulder. "If you think that's impressive, you should see what I can do with a leg of venison," she mumbles, the implication being, of course, that she can enjoy food now too.
Able to sink against him comfortably at last, the Remedy smooths out the wrinkles she's put in Remi's shirt, and she's ready with a soft quip to brush off his guilt, until Cal's name tumbles from his lips. Fingers flinching, Isla is smiling even as her shoulders tremble with fresh sobs. "I was starting to think I was the only one who remembered him, too," she admits in a whisper; and it's the only thing that keeps her going some days, knowing that if she dies then it's like Cal was never here too.
"He's dead." She knows Remi probably knows, but it's still raw after all this time, and it has no right to be.
Able to sink against him comfortably at last, the Remedy smooths out the wrinkles she's put in Remi's shirt, and she's ready with a soft quip to brush off his guilt, until Cal's name tumbles from his lips. Fingers flinching, Isla is smiling even as her shoulders tremble with fresh sobs. "I was starting to think I was the only one who remembered him, too," she admits in a whisper; and it's the only thing that keeps her going some days, knowing that if she dies then it's like Cal was never here too.
"He's dead." She knows Remi probably knows, but it's still raw after all this time, and it has no right to be.
Isla
