ISLA
"I feel like I can't be anything but sorry, these days," Isla admits with a soft chuckle, not wanting to get too close to the fire (even without Ascended whatevers here, she feels like she'll still explode if she's exposed to a flame). So instead she merely stands near the entrance, watching as the soft light fills the room, as the rain lashes against the windows outside.
And then there's Sunjata, the same as she remembers but not, with rain glistening on his skin and scars glinting in the twilight, and she can't help the sad smile that curls at the corners of her lips. "Could I get a towel, please?" she murmurs after far too long, she realises belatedly. They've both seen each other all before, but it's been a while for Isla, and call it the duchess in her, but it doesn't feel right to just strip off alongside him.
"And I'm not sure there are rules when it comes to decorating. As long as it's to your taste, I say do whatever you like." She shrugs.
And then there's Sunjata, the same as she remembers but not, with rain glistening on his skin and scars glinting in the twilight, and she can't help the sad smile that curls at the corners of her lips. "Could I get a towel, please?" she murmurs after far too long, she realises belatedly. They've both seen each other all before, but it's been a while for Isla, and call it the duchess in her, but it doesn't feel right to just strip off alongside him.
"And I'm not sure there are rules when it comes to decorating. As long as it's to your taste, I say do whatever you like." She shrugs.
apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood
after me comes the flood
