[Waking hard on an empty island, with nothing but a long-dead agent for company and a handful of dreams about flowers and memories winking in and out with an increasingly painful cling and drag like waves against a beach - not what you'd call an ideal fucking set of circumstances. He owes her a million questions and she probably owes him just as many, but instinct knows how to prioritize where they can't.]
[He starts hiking the incline alongside her, boots digging into the loosening earth. He's not real sure what he expects to find at the top, but a pool of greenish, glowing water probably wasn't in the top ten.]
[He tries not to look at the flowers growing in thick clumps of yellow and off-white. They draw his eye anyway.]
Let's hope these don't make anyone blind. [It'd be ridiculous to assume she would remember the same dream, wouldn't it?]
no subject
[He starts hiking the incline alongside her, boots digging into the loosening earth. He's not real sure what he expects to find at the top, but a pool of greenish, glowing water probably wasn't in the top ten.]
[He tries not to look at the flowers growing in thick clumps of yellow and off-white. They draw his eye anyway.]
Let's hope these don't make anyone blind. [It'd be ridiculous to assume she would remember the same dream, wouldn't it?]