Isla
Humming out a long sigh of agreement - because it had been a busy night with a lot happening even before they'd come back to the inn - Isla tilts her head a little as she catches him staring off out of the window. Reaching up, soft fingers find his stubbled cheek to try and guide his gaze back to her own. "See, that's the problem though," she says with a smile that hints at realisation. "Because you're exactly what I need, a lot of the time."
Someone to talk to after a long day or a rough time; someone who gives a fuck about whether she feels like eating peaches or drinking gin at sunrise; a strong body to lean on and a kind voice to pick her up when she's low. "So if that's all you can be, don't apologise." Does it solve everything? Of course it doesn't. Pain and grief don't work that way, but neither does affection. "I'm just sorry you're in so much pain," she murmurs. "And I wish I could help you half as much as you help me."
Someone to talk to after a long day or a rough time; someone who gives a fuck about whether she feels like eating peaches or drinking gin at sunrise; a strong body to lean on and a kind voice to pick her up when she's low. "So if that's all you can be, don't apologise." Does it solve everything? Of course it doesn't. Pain and grief don't work that way, but neither does affection. "I'm just sorry you're in so much pain," she murmurs. "And I wish I could help you half as much as you help me."
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
