[She sets her drink down immediately and clears her throat. Several times before she shifts a little where she sits, and although there is a respectable distance between them, she feels she needs a little more.
While that sarcasm doesn't escape Ilsa's notice, she pays it no mind.]
Why are you here?
[At a picnic, of all places, never mind the fact that he's in this world at all.
Under her breath, she mutters to herself, not realizing it's loud enough for him to hear—]
no subject
While that sarcasm doesn't escape Ilsa's notice, she pays it no mind.]
Why are you here?
[At a picnic, of all places, never mind the fact that he's in this world at all.
Under her breath, she mutters to herself, not realizing it's loud enough for him to hear—]
No. This must be a dream.