Isla
Isla wishes she could put a name to whatever it is she's feeling, and whatever it's doing to her and to the knee of Remi's pants. To have been his best friend, then dead, then literally a part of his soul for long enough that it was like wearing a favourite shirt, then dead again, killed by Remi, to... to this? It's safe to say that she's discovering a lot about herself in the way of unexplored trauma, and she nuzzles a little closer and lets him slip his hand into hers.
With an effort of will her claws retract to the soft pads of her fingers, and she lets out a long sigh she absolutely doesn't need. "Okay," she mumbles, half burying her face against his chest. "Okay. Sorry, I don't know what came over me, there. I'll get you a new pair of pants," she mumbles, before scoffing out a small laugh.
"Ronin is going to think I assaulted you."
With an effort of will her claws retract to the soft pads of her fingers, and she lets out a long sigh she absolutely doesn't need. "Okay," she mumbles, half burying her face against his chest. "Okay. Sorry, I don't know what came over me, there. I'll get you a new pair of pants," she mumbles, before scoffing out a small laugh.
"Ronin is going to think I assaulted you."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
