Isla
"Hm?" For a second Isla is looking over his shoulder as well; it takes her a little longer than it ought to, really, to realise he's making a joke about exactly who it was she'd addressed, her smile a touch sheepish when she finally gets it. She continues pricking the little star holes in her map right up until the point where Remi punches straight through it, the medic's eyes widening, even as she watches him try to salvage it (it doesn't work and they both know it).
"The moon," she repeats, her tinkling laughter hitting the air only a moment later. "Oh, Remi. That's..." Terrible? The worst moon she's ever seen? "...I'll keep that one, if you don't mind," she murmurs, reaching to ease it out of his hands. As if to give those hands something else to do, Isla also moves to sit beneath one of his arms, nestled close against his side.
"It's a little hard to concentrate now, isn't it?" He's not the only one struggling, though Isla will admit that his problem is a great deal more pressing.
"The moon," she repeats, her tinkling laughter hitting the air only a moment later. "Oh, Remi. That's..." Terrible? The worst moon she's ever seen? "...I'll keep that one, if you don't mind," she murmurs, reaching to ease it out of his hands. As if to give those hands something else to do, Isla also moves to sit beneath one of his arms, nestled close against his side.
"It's a little hard to concentrate now, isn't it?" He's not the only one struggling, though Isla will admit that his problem is a great deal more pressing.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
