so much of our lives is just carving through the dark
"Mmhm," Isla hums, a strand of amusement rippling through Remi's magic between the heavier emotions, before the truth of it comes out and she huffs out a near inaudible laugh. "And I bet he is not so excellent at accepting your hovering with quiet understanding?" she assumes, her fingers smoothing gently across the fabric of his shirt, relishing the warmth and familiarity of him in her arms, however changed they might both be by years and circumstance.
Peeking up at him as he straightens a little, Isla raises her eyebrows but doesn't seem surprised - not by the Knight taking his work seriously or by Remi risking splinters for kisses. "Perhaps save it for when he gives you a tour of the place when it's finished," she suggests, before glancing over her shoulder at the pineapples he mentions. "Ah, I see. I was actually looking for some for breakfast. Maybe we can get a few between us to take back?"
Peeking up at him as he straightens a little, Isla raises her eyebrows but doesn't seem surprised - not by the Knight taking his work seriously or by Remi risking splinters for kisses. "Perhaps save it for when he gives you a tour of the place when it's finished," she suggests, before glancing over her shoulder at the pineapples he mentions. "Ah, I see. I was actually looking for some for breakfast. Maybe we can get a few between us to take back?"
