when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
She draws back to look up at him, dazed and unsure what to do - at least until he leans in to kiss her. Isla melts against him, her hands drifting to press against his chest; they'll leave bloody prints when he moves away, but for now she barely notices. Let it bleed, he says, and whilst she can't think of anything less appropriate from a medical standpoint, as the alchemist's friend, she lets it go.
Wobbly, at first, when Remi sets her on her feet, she'll brace against him for a second to catch her balance. Nothing feels immediately wrong - in fact Isla is satisified in a way that she can't even begin to articulate - and so she allows the Lullaby to slouch away onto the bed. She gets the impression, however, that she is the only one whose body feels the heavy, warm weight of the very well fucked, and so she doesn't waste further words.
Instead, padding over to the bed after Remi, Isla silently sinks down onto it as well. She shifts not to drape herself across him - rather the opposite, in fact, the medic offering her arms as a place for the Lullaby to gather himself, to lay in darkness and silence for a while.
Wobbly, at first, when Remi sets her on her feet, she'll brace against him for a second to catch her balance. Nothing feels immediately wrong - in fact Isla is satisified in a way that she can't even begin to articulate - and so she allows the Lullaby to slouch away onto the bed. She gets the impression, however, that she is the only one whose body feels the heavy, warm weight of the very well fucked, and so she doesn't waste further words.
Instead, padding over to the bed after Remi, Isla silently sinks down onto it as well. She shifts not to drape herself across him - rather the opposite, in fact, the medic offering her arms as a place for the Lullaby to gather himself, to lay in darkness and silence for a while.
i could die
Isla
