we're always running scared but holding knives
"I know what I said," Isla whispers, belatedly realising that Remi might not be able to hear anything over the sound of the rain with ears no longer capable of hearing a pin drop. "Call it being human, okay?" Changing one's mind, making mistakes, having empathy. All of it rolls together into a mess, and as Remi turns to lay on his back, Isla is already slipping off her (altogether very practical) heels.
"Come here," she murmurs, drawing back the blankets so she can slip beneath them, reaching out for the wendigo in the dark. The bed isn't all that large anyway, so it's a good thing Isla doesn't intend for there to be distance between them, her arms twining around Remi to draw him into a tight embrace.
"Come here," she murmurs, drawing back the blankets so she can slip beneath them, reaching out for the wendigo in the dark. The bed isn't all that large anyway, so it's a good thing Isla doesn't intend for there to be distance between them, her arms twining around Remi to draw him into a tight embrace.
Isla
