Isla
As long as nobody says it. That's something that Isla can get on board with, but if only either of them were in any place to seal it with words. As it is, Isla's lips are very busy, and the way her hands roam over Remi is almost greedy; eager fingers trace featherlight patterns across his chest and down his ribcage, her claws only melting away at the very last moment. Glancing up at him with lips pressed to his sternum, Isla makes no secret of how she's creeping steadily lower, but she does pause for thought, at least.
"Should we slow down?" she wonders, even as her fingers move now towards his belt. "I know it's not the same as..." As before, her small shrug suggests. "I don't really know the etiquette," she confesses. Her best friend, who she loves and may or may not be in love with, who is married but it doesn't matter, who is gay but it doesn't matter... it's one of a kind, to be sure.
"Should we slow down?" she wonders, even as her fingers move now towards his belt. "I know it's not the same as..." As before, her small shrug suggests. "I don't really know the etiquette," she confesses. Her best friend, who she loves and may or may not be in love with, who is married but it doesn't matter, who is gay but it doesn't matter... it's one of a kind, to be sure.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
