[SE] dreaming of far away

Isla

"It will never come to that," Isla says sweetly, though the steel edge beneath her words suggests she is all too serious about it. They are both gentle by nature, and though Ever's mettle hasn't been tested in that arena (yet), Isla has proven that she can be as morally grey as is necessary when it comes to those she cares about. Letting out a long sigh as if to deliberately release that line of thought, Ever's question does wonders to distract her. "Both, if you can believe it. Between the two of us, though, should I ever be in need of it, I would prefer the fire."

Smiling and tilting her head against the kisses that drift down her neck, Isla has no doubt that they can mould the bathroom - like everything else in the room - to fit their needs, but if Ever wishes for them to have to squeeze into the tub, so be it. "I can do that," she says of the wine, letting him go with reluctance (but absolutely enjoying watching him leave) and setting about finding refreshments.

By the time the aviator has found his lavender and peppermint scents, Isla will appear in the doorway with two glasses of deep red wine. She's also procured a fluffy white robe which, evident by the loose tie at the waist, has replaced any clothes she was wearing a moment ago. "I think this will do nicely."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard