when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
"That's not something you need to apologise for," Isla says with a flash of a smile up at Remi that's quickly wiped away by the hot press of his lips to her skin. Her fingers still in their explorations, consumed instead by all that Remi is lavishing on her. "I don't know if it's something you need to say, either--" Cut off by the hands slipping beneath her, Isla's back arches that she might help the alchemist to strip her off.
There aren't bruises or scars on the medic's skin - likely a marked difference to what Remi is used to, regardless of sexual preference. But that is a difference too, and they both know it; Isla gazes up at him with a small smile, reaching up to brush his curls out of his face. Her hand moves, then, to capture Remi's, guiding it along the length of her body, over soft curves, the swell of her breasts, down to her navel.
There aren't bruises or scars on the medic's skin - likely a marked difference to what Remi is used to, regardless of sexual preference. But that is a difference too, and they both know it; Isla gazes up at him with a small smile, reaching up to brush his curls out of his face. Her hand moves, then, to capture Remi's, guiding it along the length of her body, over soft curves, the swell of her breasts, down to her navel.
i could die
Isla
