EVEREST
With a rather helpless look that Isla's kisses quickly erase, Ever finds himself returning the gesture with a much easier confidence than he'd felt before. Now it wasn't just Dahlia's purple flush softening his mind, but Isla as well and gods if the boy didn't fall in love with the Remedy in that moment exactly.
Smiling eagerly as he must have done as a boy when his mother had told him that fine, he could stay up for one more hour reading, the aviator flushed and reached for the towel. Trying not to abandon Isla's side entirely, Ever wiped away as much as he cared to, before folding the towel one-handed and carefully setting it down (a gesture no doubt innately learned from his father).
Settling back, he let his arms fold around her body, trying not to overthink things too much. 'With some things, yes.' He chuckles. Aviation, physics, mechanics? Sure. Mathematics, history, politics? No problem. Communication, puns, emotional intelligence? Insert grimace face here.
Tilting his head so that his gaze could descend down Isla's body, Ever lifted his hand slightly and cautiously let it whisper down her arm. "Truthfully...I really don't know how to go about what I want next." He admits in a voice that sounds tentative but practiced as if he'd been reciting it in his head. "I want to make you feel good, Isla, but...I never...did the sorts of things most boys do when they are younger. I didn't experiment. I didn't read. I didn't look." Well, he had stared in the window at Molly's once with Mateo, but he'd just been confused about what he saw.
"I mean.. I know where things are," his mother was a doctor too after all. "But I don't know how hard, or...there's lips and teeth, and gods, claws? feathers? And I don't—" Trailing off, he tugged his gaze back up and looked down at her with a crookedly upside-down smile. "But I want to know how to make you feel good. I want.." Her to scream his name, to tremble as he had, to drift amidst the stars. He shook his head. "..will you let me try?"
Smiling eagerly as he must have done as a boy when his mother had told him that fine, he could stay up for one more hour reading, the aviator flushed and reached for the towel. Trying not to abandon Isla's side entirely, Ever wiped away as much as he cared to, before folding the towel one-handed and carefully setting it down (a gesture no doubt innately learned from his father).
Settling back, he let his arms fold around her body, trying not to overthink things too much. 'With some things, yes.' He chuckles. Aviation, physics, mechanics? Sure. Mathematics, history, politics? No problem. Communication, puns, emotional intelligence? Insert grimace face here.
Tilting his head so that his gaze could descend down Isla's body, Ever lifted his hand slightly and cautiously let it whisper down her arm. "Truthfully...I really don't know how to go about what I want next." He admits in a voice that sounds tentative but practiced as if he'd been reciting it in his head. "I want to make you feel good, Isla, but...I never...did the sorts of things most boys do when they are younger. I didn't experiment. I didn't read. I didn't look." Well, he had stared in the window at Molly's once with Mateo, but he'd just been confused about what he saw.
"I mean.. I know where things are," his mother was a doctor too after all. "But I don't know how hard, or...there's lips and teeth, and gods, claws? feathers? And I don't—" Trailing off, he tugged his gaze back up and looked down at her with a crookedly upside-down smile. "But I want to know how to make you feel good. I want.." Her to scream his name, to tremble as he had, to drift amidst the stars. He shook his head. "..will you let me try?"
the boards will still creak
the leaves will still die
the leaves will still die
