Isla
Is it? Is it clearly for science? The look on Isla's face suggests not, though the wicked glint in her eyes obviously doesn't seem to mind it at all. And even with their banter, she still hasn't slipped her fingers out of his hand. In fact, she lifts it up once more, holding it between both of hers to clasp it with gentle pressure. "Do you feel it?" she wonders. "The way you'd have felt your original arm?" It's such an unusual circumstance, even Isla finds herself at an intellectual dead end with it.
Then there's a crooked smile and a playful remark in her immediate field of vision, and with a fanged grin, Isla releases him. "Excuse me, Cal - you are not the one who needs to be convinced here." She can play at haughty as well as any former duchess, straightening up on the bed. "Your skin-deep charm might work on some ladies, but some of us crave a deeper connection." She chuckles.
Then there's a crooked smile and a playful remark in her immediate field of vision, and with a fanged grin, Isla releases him. "Excuse me, Cal - you are not the one who needs to be convinced here." She can play at haughty as well as any former duchess, straightening up on the bed. "Your skin-deep charm might work on some ladies, but some of us crave a deeper connection." She chuckles.
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
