Isla
"Mm, if you insist. I did enjoy amputating your arm though," Isla says with a playfully fanged grin, as if it's a crying shame that she can't butcher him further. She can explore him well enough at least, and once the sea glass has been deposited into his pocket, her hand moves to rest over it (conveniently on his ass) to make sure it stays put. Wouldn't want it falling out now, would we? Still, she can't resist the mischief in her tone as Varus talks about the knife in his boot, and she tuts him.
"That is the perfect setup for a dick joke," she says quietly, "but luckily for you, I am too much of a duchess to make it." Leaving another lingering kiss against his lips, Isla finally steps back to snag one of his hands that they might stroll together on the beach. "Yes," she mumbles. "Let's go and look at the torches."
"That is the perfect setup for a dick joke," she says quietly, "but luckily for you, I am too much of a duchess to make it." Leaving another lingering kiss against his lips, Isla finally steps back to snag one of his hands that they might stroll together on the beach. "Yes," she mumbles. "Let's go and look at the torches."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
