"Frey…"
"Frey…"
Godfrey shot Isolde an exasperated side-eye as she kept musing his newfound nickname. It sounded quite sweet when he heard her utter the name at first, but she had been looking for a reason to say it since they woke up this morning, and now, standing right before a massive blue swirling gate, she still whispered it under her breath.
"Stop it," Godfrey said sharply.
Isolde glanced at him from the corner of her right eye. Her golden-orange iris met his ocean-blue ones as she pouted.
"It just feels so good to say it. Frey." Her lips curled into a charming smile that only made Godfrey shut his eyes and tilt his head upward toward the sky.
Godfrey wore his hoodie; luckily, it was thick enough for the terrain they were about to enter. Aside from his black top, pants, and boots, he also carried his backpack.
