Koa
I don't want to wonder if this is a blunder
They make it through the waiting door without too much fanfare, a slow procession punctuated by pauses whenever Flora winces in pain. With her held against his chest Koa's able to pick out the alluring aroma of her perfume - as well as a layer of tell-tale sharpness, herbal and pleasant and thick with juniper, the calling card of gin. It accounts her unsteadiness, as well as the poorly thought out decision to stand upon a wobbly chair instead of finding a ladder.
And it soothes his annoyance at her protest, helps keep his hackles from rising up. "We can go back to fighting later," he informs her indulgently, shoving a coffee table off with his foot to allow him access to the couch. Carefully he kneels beside it, ginger and methodical as the precious parcel is delivered into its waiting embrace. "Here, lift your leg up," he directs her, grabbing one of the plush throw pillows to wedge beneath her knee.
He's turned to Spice to collect the towels when Flora's voice warbles out again. It makes him, well, do a double-take, an incredulous laugh rolling from him at the suggestion of such foul play. "Yup," Koa confirms wryly, "You caught me. I used my secret powers of telekinesis to push your chair over, so I could swoop in and be a hero and you'd be so grateful we'd stop fighting. Did it work?"
As he's spoken he's also knelt beside her, the ice-cold towel in his hand. Gently he wraps it around her ankle, hoping that the playful banter will distract from that first frigid touch. Yet behind the playful sarcasm is something earnest, because while no, he didn't make her fall on purpose, he would really like for their fight - or whatever it is they're doing - to be done.
And it soothes his annoyance at her protest, helps keep his hackles from rising up. "We can go back to fighting later," he informs her indulgently, shoving a coffee table off with his foot to allow him access to the couch. Carefully he kneels beside it, ginger and methodical as the precious parcel is delivered into its waiting embrace. "Here, lift your leg up," he directs her, grabbing one of the plush throw pillows to wedge beneath her knee.
He's turned to Spice to collect the towels when Flora's voice warbles out again. It makes him, well, do a double-take, an incredulous laugh rolling from him at the suggestion of such foul play. "Yup," Koa confirms wryly, "You caught me. I used my secret powers of telekinesis to push your chair over, so I could swoop in and be a hero and you'd be so grateful we'd stop fighting. Did it work?"
As he's spoken he's also knelt beside her, the ice-cold towel in his hand. Gently he wraps it around her ankle, hoping that the playful banter will distract from that first frigid touch. Yet behind the playful sarcasm is something earnest, because while no, he didn't make her fall on purpose, he would really like for their fight - or whatever it is they're doing - to be done.
When I kiss your lips I want to sink down to the bottom of the sea
