illie, sap sipper
she/her
27
september 23rd
snowpoint city, sinnoh
bi curious
geneticist, alchemist
head professor
you caged me and then you called me crazy; i am what i am 'cause you trained me.
TAG WITH @illeana
illeana reyes
catharsis
POSTED ON Jul 14, 2020 18:06:19 GMT
[attr="class","illie"] [attr="class","illie b"] [attr="class","illie i"]where stormy is careful and considerate, illeana is anything but. when her best friend shifts onto the bed, she's eager to wrap her up in her arms, to pull her close and hold her. the comfort and warmth between them won't fade, won't slip through her fingers. she'll never allow that. instead, she'll shift to fully rest her head on stormy's shoulder, to sigh into the skin of her neck. a light laugh escapes her, even if the mood is a little heavier than they're used to. they're together, they're here, but one could have been lost. and then what? without one, what would the other do? she shudders when she thinks about it. "there better never be proof to dispute that," she murmurs and it's only half serious. she wants to believe that stormy will live forever and that death will never claim her but it's improbable. science tells her no and she hates it, despises it, wants to rewrite it. instead, she'll simply offer a smile and brush the concept beneath the rug. "i wouldn't be surprised if you're immortal. you are a goddess, after all."the statement feels so pure and kind and wholesome yet she flushes as if it means more than that. perhaps it means the world and she's struck by just how good stormy really is. how protective and kind, loving and fierce. really, what did she do to deserve such a woman in her life, in her heart? she's pressing closer, smile widening at the thought. "i'll take you along if you take me too," she offers. if stormy is to become her champion, then illeana would become hers. "i'd follow you anywhere. you just need to ask." she'd follow her into the dark if it meant she could still hold her hand. and then, the mood shifts just enough to allow a sigh to be breathed out from her lungs. she doesn't want to endure such a thing again, not after how horrible things turned out. mistake after mistake and she's stuck in this loop of analyzing them as if that will change anything. it won't and she's simply putting herself through the ringer for nothing. "i don't know if there will be a next time, though," she whispers. thoughts of fernando rise, of what he suggested. they want to remove her from field work, hole her up in a lab and keep her safe. with that concept still lingering on her mind, how could she even entertain the thought of a next time?
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