Isla
Cal is a lot, Isla is learning; a bright spark of energy that doesn't ever seem to stop or flicker. It dims at times - she's seen it, very briefly - but then it's right back to full speed ahead. She doesn't know whether she wants to be swept away by it, or if she wants to see straight through it to whatever is underneath. For now she settles on the former, tilting her head up at him and reaching out to clasp his hand and draw herself to her feet.
"Alright - hangman it is," she agrees, smiling warmly and gesturing over to the bookshelves. "There will be notebooks and stationary there," she says, stepping over to collect them up. Returning to sit on the couch and scoot forward so they can play on the coffee table, she offers him out the pencil. "You are the guest, so you can have the first word." It's only polite.
"Alright - hangman it is," she agrees, smiling warmly and gesturing over to the bookshelves. "There will be notebooks and stationary there," she says, stepping over to collect them up. Returning to sit on the couch and scoot forward so they can play on the coffee table, she offers him out the pencil. "You are the guest, so you can have the first word." It's only polite.
passing by, you light up my darkest skies
you take only seconds to draw me in
you take only seconds to draw me in
