"Oh, Merlin, you haven't been around her, then!" Oliver sighed dramatically, dipping more bread into the oil. "She wants a bath, so it's all 'go on then, Ollie, I want the purple sparkly bath!'" He mimicked Isla's high, girlish voice. "Then before you know it she wants 'the pretty blue one', then 'the bright pink' and I have to add more water to get it to swirl properly. Then she wants a bath melt to make the water 'slippery'. She's going to grow up to be a diva." He nodded sagely, biting down onto the bread, ignoring the rest of her comments though subtly blushing at the mention of his hair.
"The Falcons have nothing on us this year," Oliver smirked, stepping forward to flick the end of her tongue.
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finnigans_rpg,