Isla
"Couches can be replaced," Isla points out with a small nudge to his metal arm, and she sidles out of the way to allow Varus to get up and get himself together. It doesn't elude her, the dexterity of the knife between his fingers, the way everything so neatly finds its place on his person, and not for the first time, the medic realises how much she still has to learn about the man who had walked so easily into her life. She's so caught up in watching him, in fact, that it's a surprise for him to take her hand, Isla blinking herself back into focus and smiling across at him.
Leading the way, indeed, into the bedroom, she grabs a towel from one of the cupboards and sweeps across to start carefully drying off his hair and his face, offering him the flash of a sudden smirk. "This is not how I expected I would be undressing you for the first time," she remarks softly. "But no - no hideously green sweater. I'll spare you tonight, since you're having such a rough time."
Leading the way, indeed, into the bedroom, she grabs a towel from one of the cupboards and sweeps across to start carefully drying off his hair and his face, offering him the flash of a sudden smirk. "This is not how I expected I would be undressing you for the first time," she remarks softly. "But no - no hideously green sweater. I'll spare you tonight, since you're having such a rough time."
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
