// If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you //
He peers over her shoulder at the items she places down, hands shoved in his jean pockets while he leans up on his toes for a better view. Candies and toys, shiny remnants and her trademark duck, like a serial killer's calling card left behind to sign her handiwork, just in the deals of mischief instead of murder. "Got it—treats, toys, trinkets." He nods his head as if committing it to memory, that and warmth.
The abrupt slump of her body fully to the ground however draws his next retort short, and if he'd had eyes for anyone other than her in that moment perhaps he'd have noticed the disinterest in her companions, though perhaps not either way given she's suddenly out cold for no explicable reason. "Mel?!" he calls out, thinking it a prank at first, though the worry is there all the same. She doesn't immediately laugh and poke fun at the pitch of his voice though, so it compounds instantly. He kneels next to her hastily, pulling under her arms to get her turn over, head nestle in his lap while he sweeps back her hair. He leans down, an ear pressed near her face, where her steady breath confirms life.
"MEL!" he says again, beginning to shake her shoulders in an attempt to rouse her from whatever spell has taken hold. Not death, but something. What if it becomes something worse, too? He's got nothing to heal her with, and they're so buried in the woods, how could he cart her to something helpful fast enough?
The abrupt slump of her body fully to the ground however draws his next retort short, and if he'd had eyes for anyone other than her in that moment perhaps he'd have noticed the disinterest in her companions, though perhaps not either way given she's suddenly out cold for no explicable reason. "Mel?!" he calls out, thinking it a prank at first, though the worry is there all the same. She doesn't immediately laugh and poke fun at the pitch of his voice though, so it compounds instantly. He kneels next to her hastily, pulling under her arms to get her turn over, head nestle in his lap while he sweeps back her hair. He leans down, an ear pressed near her face, where her steady breath confirms life.
"MEL!" he says again, beginning to shake her shoulders in an attempt to rouse her from whatever spell has taken hold. Not death, but something. What if it becomes something worse, too? He's got nothing to heal her with, and they're so buried in the woods, how could he cart her to something helpful fast enough?
ISKRA
// I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile //
