when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
Isla doesn't have empathy magic, but all things considered between them, it's hardly needed as they stumble away into the house together. She wants Remi in ways that have been slumbering deep within her, beneath layers of logic and mechanics that stifle such notions. But since there's no logic here, and since every nerve is on fire with sensations that have been sorely missed, that craving for him rears its head in ways that can only be considered primal in nature.
His hand slides against her flesh and she moans openly into their kiss, her body bending and pliable beneath his touch as if to better anchor herself against him. An awkward thing when Remi is trying to walk them down the hallway and Isla is trying to hook her leg around his hips, but she's sure he'll figure it out. He has to, because she's in no position to try. No, Isla is already attempting to strip off his shirt, to nip at his bottom lip (sans fangs, at present) and rock her hips against his.
"Remi," she whispers in the dark, and her tone alone - raw and desperate need - will hopefully deliver the message she wants to get across. It's only when she gets his shirt open that she forces herself to pause, her fingers carefully strumming across his skin. "Let me touch you," she mumbles. "Just for a bit. Gods--" And then she's kissing him again, heedless to disentangle from the alchemist.
His hand slides against her flesh and she moans openly into their kiss, her body bending and pliable beneath his touch as if to better anchor herself against him. An awkward thing when Remi is trying to walk them down the hallway and Isla is trying to hook her leg around his hips, but she's sure he'll figure it out. He has to, because she's in no position to try. No, Isla is already attempting to strip off his shirt, to nip at his bottom lip (sans fangs, at present) and rock her hips against his.
"Remi," she whispers in the dark, and her tone alone - raw and desperate need - will hopefully deliver the message she wants to get across. It's only when she gets his shirt open that she forces herself to pause, her fingers carefully strumming across his skin. "Let me touch you," she mumbles. "Just for a bit. Gods--" And then she's kissing him again, heedless to disentangle from the alchemist.
i could die
Isla
