Man-Made Object

“It does feel as though a net is beginning to close in on us, doesn’t it?” Isla agrees quietly. She does nothing while Nate makes his explorations, allowing him to touch and examine himself at his leisure. In the meantime, she straightens up and merely watches, taking it all in, committing it to memory. Part of her thinks of getting a pencil and a notebook now, trying to sketch all that she sees, but there isn’t really time for that. He hurt Sunjata. Isla can understand that, she supposes, and her nod as she leans back in is understanding. It seems that way, at least. There are a few moments of silence between Nate falling silent and the doctor’s next remarks, by which time her finger is moving along one of his central fluid lines, one that leads straight into the mechanism of his heart. “I don’t know,” she admits eventually, glancing up at him with a sad smile. ”Did it make a difference? To Sunjata’s nightmares, or to what happened?” she wonders, before slowly removing her finger. “I like you a lot, Nate. Remi is my best friend - I hope, though, that it won’t affect our relationship.” ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die