when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
A soft protest leaves her lips as he moves her, though Isla is never going to resist him, not really. Blankets and all, her ruffled hair and pout appear as Varus scoops her into his lap, though she quickly buries her face into his chest and tugs the blankets closer. "No," she mumbles, sounding miserable and defeated, and were it any other situation it might have been sort of funny.
But this isn't any other situation, and even as Isla relaxes into his embrace, a shiver runs through her that suggests there is only the barest comfort to be found. "I'm scared, Cal," Isla whispers, the admission spoken mostly into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't think we can win this. Or even survive this. I don't really want to win - I just want to be here at the end of it."
But this isn't any other situation, and even as Isla relaxes into his embrace, a shiver runs through her that suggests there is only the barest comfort to be found. "I'm scared, Cal," Isla whispers, the admission spoken mostly into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't think we can win this. Or even survive this. I don't really want to win - I just want to be here at the end of it."
i could die
Isla
