Re: Log: Iris & Isaac
[Isaac's grin was met by a solemn nod and a responding press of her lips together, something that was perhaps meant to be a smile of her own but never quite emerged. For as easily (relatively) as her smiles had come, both in Italy and in Wonderland, they were once again reluctant to show themselves. She could feel the seriousness weighing on her like another sweater, like something heavy meant to be worn in the wintertime. Not the deep quicksand that depression was, had been. But something weighted with realism.
She looked for a moment at the file that was slid over to her, the light manila of it innocent against the top of the desk. There was a moment of hesitation before she reached out her left hand (leaving her right almost hidden in her lap to not expose her hand too much) and took the folder. Holding it close, she opened it to look at its contents. She was nodding in response to his question before she'd looked at all the forms. The flip of pages was slow, and eventually not as careful as she'd intended, and there was the line of injury, dark red and still angry as it crawled out from the cuff of her shirt. She didn't notice, didn't pay attention to it, focus still on the pages. And when she spoke, she didn't look up.] What time?