Got a bag full of clothes, a bottle of wine. Only say how I feel From the back of my mind
Everest returns her wave with a precise lift of his hand—no flourish, just a clear and steady gesture—and as Isla steps beneath the awning, his gaze softens. He doesn’t meet her eyes for more than a few seconds at first, but his smile is real and distinct, a quiet warmth not unlike the one pressing down from the sun above them.
"I’ve been here," he replies, adjusting the satchel against his hip with a brief touch. His fingers tap once—twice—on the fabric before stilling. "I didn’t want to be late." At her glance toward the satchel, he follows it reflexively before nodding. "This is for us," he says plainly. "I thought a picnic might be the least invasive way to gather observational data." His mouth twitches into something dry but genuine. "Food is known to mitigate awkward silences." Just in case any presented themselves, best they be able to fill them with fluids and sustenance.
He hesitates, then gestures in the general direction of the market. "If you're ready, I thought we could walk that way. There’s a stretch of beach past the far stalls. It’s usually quiet. Less crowding, minimal auditory interference." A pause, his brows lifting slightly in case she has other preferences. "Unless you'd prefer a different route?"
Everest waits a beat as Isla considers the options, then blinks once—twice—and turns sharply toward Isla. "You look lovely," he mumbles, the words nearly coming out all at once as a blush of colour rises in his cheeks in response to this obvious misstep on his part for not having said so sooner.
"I’ve been here," he replies, adjusting the satchel against his hip with a brief touch. His fingers tap once—twice—on the fabric before stilling. "I didn’t want to be late." At her glance toward the satchel, he follows it reflexively before nodding. "This is for us," he says plainly. "I thought a picnic might be the least invasive way to gather observational data." His mouth twitches into something dry but genuine. "Food is known to mitigate awkward silences." Just in case any presented themselves, best they be able to fill them with fluids and sustenance.
He hesitates, then gestures in the general direction of the market. "If you're ready, I thought we could walk that way. There’s a stretch of beach past the far stalls. It’s usually quiet. Less crowding, minimal auditory interference." A pause, his brows lifting slightly in case she has other preferences. "Unless you'd prefer a different route?"
Everest waits a beat as Isla considers the options, then blinks once—twice—and turns sharply toward Isla. "You look lovely," he mumbles, the words nearly coming out all at once as a blush of colour rises in his cheeks in response to this obvious misstep on his part for not having said so sooner.
