Isla
"Your party's over," Isla informs the Flood, having to tilt her head right back to peer up at him, not at all appreciating his height at the moment, but the sweetness of his smile makes up for it. "Mm, I suppose so. But I promised Flora I would go for a manicure with her tomorrow, so we should stay somewhere close." Is there such a thing as drunk flying? Should they do it? The answer to both is probably a resounding no.
Grasping his hand and snagging her sandals with the other, Isla draws her toes out of the embers and carefully gets to her feet, toppling a little with the sudden rush of blood to her head. "There wasn't even a single fight," she adds belatedly. "Which I suppose is good, because I didn't bring my medical bag with me."
Grasping his hand and snagging her sandals with the other, Isla draws her toes out of the embers and carefully gets to her feet, toppling a little with the sudden rush of blood to her head. "There wasn't even a single fight," she adds belatedly. "Which I suppose is good, because I didn't bring my medical bag with 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
