so much of our lives is just carving through the dark
"You," Isla says with a smile that's equally as bemused by the whole thing; at the time she'd been far too concerned by what Flora had said to have thought to ask why Ever had been the subject of conversation between the two leaders in the first place. Watching him potter around her kitchen and put things away - and reminded, with a flush of affection, about the first time he'd stepped into her apartment - she can't help but agree with the aviator.
He wasn't sick and hadn't been acting that way, not since she'd met him, honestly. (Give or take a couple of brushes with heatstroke, but in Torchline that doesn't exactly scream Infected). She can attest, too, that he doesn't have a single injury on his body that's refusing to heal, as had been the case with the Doubletake.
"You know I do," she murmurs, her smile wry, and she nods to allow him to put her flowers in water while she slips down off the counter and brings her medical bag to their little kitchen table. "I remember you mentioning that the void creatures don't really bother you - and you wore that spinebloom to the ball. Is that still the same?" she wonders.
He wasn't sick and hadn't been acting that way, not since she'd met him, honestly. (Give or take a couple of brushes with heatstroke, but in Torchline that doesn't exactly scream Infected). She can attest, too, that he doesn't have a single injury on his body that's refusing to heal, as had been the case with the Doubletake.
"You know I do," she murmurs, her smile wry, and she nods to allow him to put her flowers in water while she slips down off the counter and brings her medical bag to their little kitchen table. "I remember you mentioning that the void creatures don't really bother you - and you wore that spinebloom to the ball. Is that still the same?" she wonders.
