I think I can manage being collateral damage
Everest pauses mid-label, the corner of the paper hovering just above the bottle as Isla speaks. He looks up at her then, and the look he gives her is brief but unmistakable; quiet gratitude, relief threaded through it. She hasn’t rushed him, she hasn’t commented on the pace, she’s simply folded his way of working into the plan without friction, and that matters more than he knows how to articulate. He finishes pressing the label into place before nodding, once, precise.
"That sounds good," he says. The agreement is immediate, uncomplicated. His fingers smooth the label again, just to be sure, then he adds, already mentally inventorying the space around them, "I’ll also clean up our supplies here."
He resumes his careful work without prompting, attention narrowing back down to bottle and paper and alignment.
Ever finishes bottling and then will clean up!
"That sounds good," he says. The agreement is immediate, uncomplicated. His fingers smooth the label again, just to be sure, then he adds, already mentally inventorying the space around them, "I’ll also clean up our supplies here."
He resumes his careful work without prompting, attention narrowing back down to bottle and paper and alignment.
Ever finishes bottling and then will clean up!
Even if I had to lose you to know you I'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
