flora
The thing about summer romances and first-times is how often you re-write them in your mind. How any tarnished detail is polished to a bright shine, and how shortcomings are overlooked in lieu of moments that had never happened but should have. Koa had occupied a leading role in Flora's fantasies for so long that her mind no longer really cared to determine fact from fiction. That she and the man before her had in fact only been together twice was entirely irrelevant to the sordid and complex story of them that she had in her mind. The nights they snuck away together. The moonlit rendezvous and alleyway hookups. Nights spent making love on the Ark or fucking in Rae's Fingers. For those reasons, the press of Koa around her sparked memories of moments that had never happened, softening the queen in ways the soldier hadn't earned. Didn't deserve.
"No. I mean, Torchline was a mess after everything, but we managed." The queen whispers in response, thinking just how easily she could kiss him. It's that thought which stirs some semblance of reality back into her mind (only not really). Straightening enough to try and fix his copper stare with a look of annoyance, Flora huffs theatrically. "Where's your stuff, then?" Raising an incredulous eyebrow, Flora glances over the dragoon's shoulder before returning her gaze. "Y'know, if you were camping? Where's your stuff. And why are you here." On the shores of a volcano.
"No. I mean, Torchline was a mess after everything, but we managed." The queen whispers in response, thinking just how easily she could kiss him. It's that thought which stirs some semblance of reality back into her mind (only not really). Straightening enough to try and fix his copper stare with a look of annoyance, Flora huffs theatrically. "Where's your stuff, then?" Raising an incredulous eyebrow, Flora glances over the dragoon's shoulder before returning her gaze. "Y'know, if you were camping? Where's your stuff. And why are you here." On the shores of a volcano.
let me taste your silhouette
