ISLA
"The grumpy one at the bottom of the where?" Isla tilts her head. "And I'd make some comment about feeling bad that you didn't have any other kraken around to fuck, but given that you'd both die right after..." Full circle in the conversation, look at that. Well, almost. "I don't remember to be honest," she admits with a small smile. "My main memories from that night are you using me as an action figure."
Triumphantly belonging on that island, Isla wipes her fingers and lips clean on a napkin and settles in with the remainder of her margarita. "Well until you do know anything about that, you can keep your chit-chat about manners to yourself," she says haughtily, only to nearly choke as she watches him crack open the shell in what could arguably be deemed a seductive way. "Just eat the damn lobster." She chuckles.
Wondering if a restaurant exists that doesn't allow shoes, Isla merely offers her friend a challenging raise of her eyebrows, taking a fresh sip of her drink and letting him 'win' that round.
Triumphantly belonging on that island, Isla wipes her fingers and lips clean on a napkin and settles in with the remainder of her margarita. "Well until you do know anything about that, you can keep your chit-chat about manners to yourself," she says haughtily, only to nearly choke as she watches him crack open the shell in what could arguably be deemed a seductive way. "Just eat the damn lobster." She chuckles.
Wondering if a restaurant exists that doesn't allow shoes, Isla merely offers her friend a challenging raise of her eyebrows, taking a fresh sip of her drink and letting him 'win' that round.
she's a runner
rebel, and a stunner
rebel, and a stunner
