ISLA
"Quite sure. You won't catch me creeping around in an Ascended sex room on the first date, thank you," Isla says with a smile that's warm and cool at the same time. She half means it; as a former duchess, there are certain bits of etiquette instilled in her, regardless of how much she might dislike it. Then again, with war on the horizon and (to be frank) barely a minute in the day to enjoy herself, especially when it has to be in a specific room... why the hell not?
Her raised eyebrows ought to tell him everything about her opinions on his being crude, though in all fairness, she doesn't think he's been anything but polite since they met. "You could sell snow to Halovians, couldn't you?" she murmurs, her head turning a fraction as she catches the flesh and bone of his good hand out of the corner of her eye. It's a prelude to every corny romantic novel they've probably ever read, which should hopefully explain the smile on Isla's face.
"I had fun too," she murmurs, glancing back to his face as his fingers whisper across the line of her jaw. And she's ready, when he leans in; not wanting to ruin the cheesy romance of the moment, Isla's kisses are soft and sweet, despite their talking about a literal sex room. She curls her fingertips in the front of his shirt as if to hold him there in the moment, letting out a sigh she doesn't need against his lips.
"It was the wife," she murmurs wickedly, as they part. "In the novel, at the end. I thought I'd save you the heartbreak."
Her raised eyebrows ought to tell him everything about her opinions on his being crude, though in all fairness, she doesn't think he's been anything but polite since they met. "You could sell snow to Halovians, couldn't you?" she murmurs, her head turning a fraction as she catches the flesh and bone of his good hand out of the corner of her eye. It's a prelude to every corny romantic novel they've probably ever read, which should hopefully explain the smile on Isla's face.
"I had fun too," she murmurs, glancing back to his face as his fingers whisper across the line of her jaw. And she's ready, when he leans in; not wanting to ruin the cheesy romance of the moment, Isla's kisses are soft and sweet, despite their talking about a literal sex room. She curls her fingertips in the front of his shirt as if to hold him there in the moment, letting out a sigh she doesn't need against his lips.
"It was the wife," she murmurs wickedly, as they part. "In the novel, at the end. I thought I'd save you the heartbreak."
she's a runner
rebel, and a stunner
rebel, and a stunner
