Isla
The horror indeed. With a silvery flush to her cheeks as she parts from him, Isla takes a couple of seconds to realise what he's actually talking about, smiling somewhat dazedly down at the stain to his jacket. "Oh no. Not a sticky dork," she breathes, tugging at his lapels so she might be able to see it better while Varus disposes of the rest of the evidence. "Well, you can't take it off, you'll get cold," she says.
Of course, this is absolutely a leading comment, Isla's fingers teasing around the buttons of his jacket. "Unless you want to sneak home through the portal. Your shirt might be ruined too, so I might have to take that off as well." And what a crying shame that would be.
Of course, this is absolutely a leading comment, Isla's fingers teasing around the buttons of his jacket. "Unless you want to sneak home through the portal. Your shirt might be ruined too, so I might have to take that off as well." And what a crying shame that would be.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
