Isla
There isn't anyone around to see, Isla doesn't think, and even then she's not sure she'd care. Letting her fingers smooth through the alchemist's curls, she does relish the heat rolling from his body, the smell of the woods, but also of smoke and rubble, a stark reminder of where he's come from. "Saying clever things doesn't matter when what you did is so brilliant," she whispers, kissing his cheek once, twice, half a dozen times, and that's even before he's trying to peel her away.
It's with the greatest amount of reluctance that Isla allows him to place her back on the ground, though she doesn't step away from him. One arm remains curled around his neck, the other winding around his waist so she can tuck herself against his chest. "I missed you so much," she says, pressing her eyes shut. "I hate all of this."
It's with the greatest amount of reluctance that Isla allows him to place her back on the ground, though she doesn't step away from him. One arm remains curled around his neck, the other winding around his waist so she can tuck herself against his chest. "I missed you so much," she says, pressing her eyes shut. "I hate all of this."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
