Isla
"They're relieved tears," Isla assures him in case it needs saying, before his lips meet hers properly and she melts into the cradle of his arm. She only gives herself this couple of moments to feel small and scared, to draw comfort from Ever's physical presence, to quake under the dawning understanding of the way their lives are about to change. Then, with a long, deep sigh, Isla straightens a fraction and checks back into the conversation, smirking at the prospect of a small shelf dedicated to baby books up in an apartment in Stormbreak.
"I think we should tell your parents now," she says, leaning into Ever and closing her eyes as if to also brand this moment into her memories. "And I'll probably tell Remi and Ronin - they've done this enough times, they'll have some good advice. And Mateo - you can't not tell your best friend." The rest can wait, or they can pin it as a notice on the board in Torchline. It's as far as Isla can see, anyway, out towards this suddenly shrinking horizon with a brand new life at the end of it.
"And you can talk to me about anything," she adds, gazing up towards the aviator. "This is going to be new for both of us, but I don't want you to bottle anything up, okay?"
"I think we should tell your parents now," she says, leaning into Ever and closing her eyes as if to also brand this moment into her memories. "And I'll probably tell Remi and Ronin - they've done this enough times, they'll have some good advice. And Mateo - you can't not tell your best friend." The rest can wait, or they can pin it as a notice on the board in Torchline. It's as far as Isla can see, anyway, out towards this suddenly shrinking horizon with a brand new life at the end of it.
"And you can talk to me about anything," she adds, gazing up towards the aviator. "This is going to be new for both of us, but I don't want you to bottle anything up, okay?"
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
