Isla
"If I am, it's only because you make me feel that way," Isla says with a small smile, her cheeks flushing pink as she accepts his hand to descend into the hot water. Sweeping her hair up into a bun made effortlessly messy by virtue of practice rather than talent, the Remedy slips deeper into the bath until she can rest against it, tipping her head back to peer up at Everest. (And giving him quite a glorious view down the length of her body while she's at it).
"Is that so?" Her eyebrows raise. "I am feeling quite well, so it can't be the water or the room," she considers, her smile a touch more mischievous as she looks him over. "So it must be you, I suppose. Or it could be me, since we haven't included my presence as a contributing factor. I'd hate to be part of your diagnosis, though."
"Is that so?" Her eyebrows raise. "I am feeling quite well, so it can't be the water or the room," she considers, her smile a touch more mischievous as she looks him over. "So it must be you, I suppose. Or it could be me, since we haven't included my presence as a contributing factor. I'd hate to be part of your diagnosis, though."
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
