// Start a tiny riot //
The image of Spice being barred from a restaurant because a waiter deigned to do their job and provide Flora an iced drink elicits a series of chuckles, because it's entirely believable. She matches Flora ounce for ounce with mischief and flair, which is why Kaisel has no doubt he'll still be a target for frosty assaults from time to time regardless of his standing with the snack herald. Though, hearing that he'd earned her approval causes a smile to flare along his face, bright and warm with the compliment of that endorsement and the weight it carries. "Yesss," he celebrates, squeezing her tighter against him. "What's not to love though, honestly?" His champagne gaze spills back to her, sparkling with affection that lands just as silent and full as the dazzle of each glance she's fed him from the sideways sprawl against his chest.
The hand that'd been over his face shoots up above him, spearing the air as he quickly turns back to her, practically running overtop the tail end of her words with an outrageous scoff. "FLOORUH—" His hand flops back down as he loudly exhales, an attempt at sanity and patience. "I. Have. Muscles. LOTS!" The partner in his explanation, his arm, lifts again with a flex. His gaze darts back and forth from her to the bicep, 'brows lifting exaggeratedly as if doing their very best to reach her too. "Look!" His voice cracks with the effort, forcing him to clear his throat and huff out his exasperation. "I'm like a shark's prime meal," he mutters.
Whales however, that's a much better idea that he can really get behind. "Okay!" His agreement is swift and eager, fully intending to make up for every way he'd managed to fail her thus far. He doesn't even want them to have shelves because nothing should be going on them. "Wait, won't it be cold as fuck?" He cranes his head to see her better, fingers roaming up her in thought. "Plus, if we go in Flowerbirth, won't they have cute little babies with them?" Although then it might be stormier, wetter, but that sounds better than freezing his nuts off in bone-chilling wind. He'd do it though, if she wanted to.
As her fingers dance around the star she placed near his heart, and his sort through her crown of gold, he feels that he could lay here forever with her just like this. Nestled among the dim fortress where it feels safe enough to house every fear and dream that’s carved them, the cushions soaking up what’s waterlogged, the stars capturing every idea and shining with it. His fingers don't pause the way hers do, continuing to brush light and gentle against her, a steady presence of touch to keep her with him, even as the salt threatens to cut as her seawater splashes around.
Gently his thumb traces along her temple, catching a curl like he means to untangle the thought itself. “The world is greedy,” he says, soft as snowfall in sunlight. “That doesn’t mean you weren't enough. It just means the wanting never stops.” He stills, shifting to lean his forehead against hers, attempting to force his words to sink in deeper and linger in her mind. “You don’t have to keep tearing pieces off yourself just to count how many you’re made of, or bleed for proof.” She'd kill herself, again, and still claim she has to do more. Would three deaths finally be enough? Four?
“You can’t only give, Ro—same as you can’t only inhale. You’ll drown yourself.” His voice catches on the edge of roughness, trying to force through her defenses and stick itself into the places she can’t shake. “And Flora, gods, you—” he catches her hand where it still rests against his chest, pulling it up firmly between them, copper eyes blazing against the green glow of the stars. He presses a long, hard kiss to her knuckles, stamping truth there until it burns. “You’ve been more than enough since the moment I met you. I honestly don't know how you do it all, but I know you don't need to do more.” He breathes her in, lips lighter now as they skim over the ridges of her fingers, lowering their joined hands back over his heart. He knows he won’t convince her tonight, but he’ll siphon the sea from her as many times as he has to, one tide at a time, until she sees herself the way he does.
The star falls then and they rise, and even this is an attempt at drying up some of her ocean. He squeezes his eyes shut, wordlessly muttering a wish under his breath with all the force of someone who believes fully, expecting her to do the same. He cracks an eye open to peek sidelong at her as he finishes, but she isn’t looking at anything but him. That feels like more magic than every constellation in the sky put together.
Her gaze wraps him whole, soft as breath and heavy as truth, a wordless vow etched in sea-glass light. It’s steady in its adoration, and even unspoken, this hits him louder than the words she'd whispered on the Sugar Tide. Here, in a heaven they made together, pinned with pretend stars and furniture arches, their love feels decided and as endless as the universe. He’s helpless against the current of it, drawn in instantly to the gravity of the sun that is her, that has always been her. His hands lift to her face, thumbs tracing the slope of her cheekbones briefly before he leans in, slow but unstoppable. He seals his mouth against hers with a deep, consuming kiss that pushes her back down into the blankets, a planetary shift. His body curls over hers, an eclipse of heat as he builds promise after promise with his lips, though no words pass.
When he finally breaks, breathless with the fierceness of it all, his forehead rests against hers, heartbeats the only noise for a moment. “You’re here,” he whispers, wonder roughened into conviction. “With me. That’s enough. It always will be.”
[FIN]
The hand that'd been over his face shoots up above him, spearing the air as he quickly turns back to her, practically running overtop the tail end of her words with an outrageous scoff. "FLOORUH—" His hand flops back down as he loudly exhales, an attempt at sanity and patience. "I. Have. Muscles. LOTS!" The partner in his explanation, his arm, lifts again with a flex. His gaze darts back and forth from her to the bicep, 'brows lifting exaggeratedly as if doing their very best to reach her too. "Look!" His voice cracks with the effort, forcing him to clear his throat and huff out his exasperation. "I'm like a shark's prime meal," he mutters.
Whales however, that's a much better idea that he can really get behind. "Okay!" His agreement is swift and eager, fully intending to make up for every way he'd managed to fail her thus far. He doesn't even want them to have shelves because nothing should be going on them. "Wait, won't it be cold as fuck?" He cranes his head to see her better, fingers roaming up her in thought. "Plus, if we go in Flowerbirth, won't they have cute little babies with them?" Although then it might be stormier, wetter, but that sounds better than freezing his nuts off in bone-chilling wind. He'd do it though, if she wanted to.
As her fingers dance around the star she placed near his heart, and his sort through her crown of gold, he feels that he could lay here forever with her just like this. Nestled among the dim fortress where it feels safe enough to house every fear and dream that’s carved them, the cushions soaking up what’s waterlogged, the stars capturing every idea and shining with it. His fingers don't pause the way hers do, continuing to brush light and gentle against her, a steady presence of touch to keep her with him, even as the salt threatens to cut as her seawater splashes around.
Gently his thumb traces along her temple, catching a curl like he means to untangle the thought itself. “The world is greedy,” he says, soft as snowfall in sunlight. “That doesn’t mean you weren't enough. It just means the wanting never stops.” He stills, shifting to lean his forehead against hers, attempting to force his words to sink in deeper and linger in her mind. “You don’t have to keep tearing pieces off yourself just to count how many you’re made of, or bleed for proof.” She'd kill herself, again, and still claim she has to do more. Would three deaths finally be enough? Four?
“You can’t only give, Ro—same as you can’t only inhale. You’ll drown yourself.” His voice catches on the edge of roughness, trying to force through her defenses and stick itself into the places she can’t shake. “And Flora, gods, you—” he catches her hand where it still rests against his chest, pulling it up firmly between them, copper eyes blazing against the green glow of the stars. He presses a long, hard kiss to her knuckles, stamping truth there until it burns. “You’ve been more than enough since the moment I met you. I honestly don't know how you do it all, but I know you don't need to do more.” He breathes her in, lips lighter now as they skim over the ridges of her fingers, lowering their joined hands back over his heart. He knows he won’t convince her tonight, but he’ll siphon the sea from her as many times as he has to, one tide at a time, until she sees herself the way he does.
The star falls then and they rise, and even this is an attempt at drying up some of her ocean. He squeezes his eyes shut, wordlessly muttering a wish under his breath with all the force of someone who believes fully, expecting her to do the same. He cracks an eye open to peek sidelong at her as he finishes, but she isn’t looking at anything but him. That feels like more magic than every constellation in the sky put together.
Her gaze wraps him whole, soft as breath and heavy as truth, a wordless vow etched in sea-glass light. It’s steady in its adoration, and even unspoken, this hits him louder than the words she'd whispered on the Sugar Tide. Here, in a heaven they made together, pinned with pretend stars and furniture arches, their love feels decided and as endless as the universe. He’s helpless against the current of it, drawn in instantly to the gravity of the sun that is her, that has always been her. His hands lift to her face, thumbs tracing the slope of her cheekbones briefly before he leans in, slow but unstoppable. He seals his mouth against hers with a deep, consuming kiss that pushes her back down into the blankets, a planetary shift. His body curls over hers, an eclipse of heat as he builds promise after promise with his lips, though no words pass.
When he finally breaks, breathless with the fierceness of it all, his forehead rests against hers, heartbeats the only noise for a moment. “You’re here,” he whispers, wonder roughened into conviction. “With me. That’s enough. It always will be.”
[FIN]
Kaisel
// Stop being so goddamn quiet //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
