under bright lights

flora

Flora shrugs, the motion fluid, unbothered, though the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth says otherwise. "I try to be a good student," she says with an airy sort of ease, flicking her gaze up from beneath her lashes to meet his. "As long as the subject matter’s interesting, anyway."

His mention of flowers earns him a laugh, bright and sweet as she tips her head to one side in mock scolding. "You’ve more than lived up to my expectations," she assures (and not just because she'd originally had none). But then, with a dramatized roll of her eyes and a quick flare of her fingers, she adds, "Though for the record, since I do have a boyfriend, this isn’t a date, so no flowers required."

That declaration doesn’t stop her from looking at the daisy blooming in her wineglass, of course. She tries, she really tries not to smile at it, but it’s impossible. Her lips curve before she can stop them, warmth spreading from her chest to her cheeks. She lifts the glass, draining what remains in a single, elegant tilt, only to cough softly as the wine hits a little too suddenly. "Didn’t want your flower to water it down," she says with a crooked smile, flicking a curl behind her ear as she sets the glass down.

But then her posture softens, the humour giving way to something more honest. "Gods," she chuckles. "The first time I met you, I’d never even kissed anyone before." Her fingers curl lightly around the base of her empty glass, eyes lowering briefly before lifting again with a soft sort of brightness. "And then there you were. Swooping in like some sinfully dressed hero to save me from an excruciatingly boring night."

A quiet chuckle leaves her, nose scrunching. "I’m sure you didn’t think twice about it, but I definitely thought about you after that."

you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"Noted. I'll make sure to be the epitome of riveting conversation while I teach you how to properly get me on my knees," Neron says, tone sly, voice low and velvety, and he casually adjusts himself towards her a little more now that he's apparently done with his cravings for the evening. (Most of them).

Sighing his theatric disappointment at the reminder that this isn't a date, he notes that Flora seems to enjoy the flower in her wine regardless, and so his point - and his decision - stand. "This is the most interesting not-date I have ever been on," he informs her, lifting a casual hand to let the ice creep up and around her wine glass to frost it, allowing the daisy inside to linger for just a little longer before it melts.

"Never?" Eyes widening with dark delight, he leans an elbow on the table to cup his chin in one hand. "A shame I didn't know at the time - I'd have never been able to let you leave without changing that."

And as for what he'd thought about her, he shrugs away the past as if it's not important; not compared to right now. "Whatever I did or didn't think back then, I can assure you that this time around, it will be difficult to think of anything else for some time. Which," he adds with a sorrowful little sigh, sitting himself up, "is probably why I ought to let you go sooner rather than later. Or I will definitely do something your boyfriend would rather I didn't."

Neron

flora

A note of agreement hums up from the back of Flora’s throat, part amusement, part anticipation, before she glances at Neron with a laugh and looks quickly away again, because gods, he really was very good at this.

As he dubs it the most interesting not-date he’s ever been on, she beams, the grin slipping in like sun through salt-slick shutters. "Why thank you," she purrs, warmth brushing every syllable before mischief curls her tone. "I’m pretty sure there’d be divine consequences if someone got yanked out of Mort’s realm for the evening and ended up having a bad time." Her gaze flicks down to the glass now freshly haloed in frost, the daisy inside preserved just a little longer—, and somewhere, quiet and unexpected, a thought trickles in. Jack used to frost their glasses too, but he’d never done that for her. Huh.

The laugh that slips out is quiet, breath against the wine glass rim. "I wasn’t exactly in a position to tell you," she says lightly, narrowing her eyes in mock-concentration before deciding, "I was...17? Maybe?" Definitely not at the age where she could just tell someone like Neron Launceleyn that not only had she not been kissed, but she wanted him to be the one to change that for her.

His next words make something stir warmer in her chest, and though she knows better than to feed a flame that’ll only scorch the wrong person, Flora doesn’t look away, not minding the heat. The air between them stays golden, like sun caught in honey, like danger dressed up in charm and melted sugar. Still, her voice is light as she sighs and tuts, "Well. I suppose I can’t scold you for it. You did say you were a cad."

Then, tilting her head toward his wine glass, she adds with a wry smile, "Alright, finish your wine then and we can walk back before you get yourself into the kind of trouble I'd have to tell my nonna about."

you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"Divine consequences," Neron echoes with a subtle raise of his eyebrows. "Hopefully the kind where I'm allowed to come back to try and have a good time permanently. Who knows?" Certainly not him, and most definitely not after two glasses of very good wine and the sort of teasing of his senses that feels euphoric in a way that's could easily become addictive. "And if it helps, I would not have complained if you'd bypassed telling me entirely and just went straight in for the kiss." Easy to say now that she's a full-fledged siren of a woman, but he won't take it back.

Laughing as well now - yes, he had warned her as much - as Neron is directed to finish his wine like a good boy he reaches for the glass to do just that. "You know, I think your nonna wouldn't mind hearing about a little trouble," he says, the tartness of the wine lingering on his lips as he sets the empty glass back down. "Especially if it meant you'd had a good time."

Speaking of which, Neron does manage to draw himself back up to a proper posture, his smile positively vulpine as he reaches suddenly for Flora's hand. "Thank you for a wonderful evening," he says, drawing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of her palm. Prince Charming, and all that.

Neron

flora

Flora smiles, a shrug rippling off her shoulders like it’s nothing at all. “"Tell you what," she says breezily, "let me bring my twin back from Mort’s realm and then I’ll see what I can do about you." She laughs, shaking her head, curls catching the amber light. "Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident. Took a lot of getting knocked down and even more learning how to get back up again to be the kind of girl who just goes in for the kiss." A wry tilt of her lips follows, soft and self-aware.

Looking at him, warm and full of mischief, Flora arches a brow and lets a lopsided smirk curve into place. "But you’re probably right. And I did have a good time with you."

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no force behind it, not with the way he kisses her hand like he’s playing the lead in some romantic tragedy. "Okay, Prince Charming," she murmurs with a chuckle, slipping gracefully from the booth before he can try anything more gallant or daring.

Together, they make their way back toward the boardwalk, conversation winding down into something quieter, more golden at the edges, until, of course, the distinct figure of Remi appears up ahead, standing sentinel with arms crossed, still holding Neron’s jacket like a disapproving valet.

She turns to Neron with all the theatrical poise of a stage queen, looping him into an entirely chaste hug before brushing a polite kiss against his cheek. "Thank you for a lovely evening," she purrs, sweet as honey. And then—

"Neron?" She calls it lightly just as he's turning away, like she’s remembered something small, something harmless. But the slap that follows lands sharp across his cheek, her palm cracking against his skin with a sound that sings through the night air. Not enough to bruise. Just enough to be remembered.

Flora doesn’t wait to see his reaction, or Remi’s for that matter. She pivots on her heel with all the self-assurance of a queen leaving court, a smirk blooming bright across her face as she saunters toward home, curls bouncing, laughter trailing softly behind her like perfume.

~FIN

you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!