<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/9f0bU30.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Delaney Clarke (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=308599.msg15011810#msg15011810)<br/><strong>Age:</strong>27<br/><strong>Sexuality:</strong>Pansexual<br/><strong>Hometown:</strong>Mina, Nevada<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>2 July, 2019 | Evening after dates.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Villa - Outside the diary room.<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Sundress,  (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/63/c3/3d/63c33d5dbd820542f6c448b229c3e729.jpg) blue sandals, this Lapis Lazuli necklace. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/79/76/a9/7976a91c957ec2691985e6d55e4b4cc5.jpg)<br/><strong>Coupled with:</strong>No one #SingleAF<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mark<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>Love Island was a special kind of hell and on at least two dozen occasions she had questioned her sanity for agreeing to these terms. She felt as though she’d been put through the emotional wringer, and as she settled her back against the wall in relative quiet (and privacy) she finally stopped fighting the exhaustion. It washed over her like the comfort of a hot bath, tactile and welcome because it was honest and unguarded. Her blue sandals dangled in one hand, the sandy remnants of her day at the beach clinging in gritty patchwork to her feet and ankles. A shower and good night’s rest were in order.<br/><br/>She was standing, her head tilted back against the wall and her eyes closed when the diary room door opened. Slowly she righted herself and rubbed one foot absently against her ankle to brush away the sand. His voice drew her attention just after that and for a brief second the surprise at seeing an unfamiliar face registered on her features.<br/><br/>“Oh...well, all good things I hope?” she laughed quietly and shifted her sandals to the opposite hand before offering him her right hand and the same cheerful but unassailable smile she’d been wearing all day.<br/><br/>“And you are?”<br/><br/>He was tall. A good inch taller than Devon but broader in the shoulders. Owen was closer to his build, but again shorter. Blue eyes. Light-ish hair. Tattoos.<br/><br/>And a suit.<br/><br/>What kind of crazy bastard chose to wear a suit in this weather? Though it looked as though the heat had managed to get the better of him. Little did she know the missing pieces of his attire were actually courtesy of Elsa’s capable hands.<br/>