flora
"Torchline hosts a large party every year, lots of frivolity. Lots of drinking. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd heard us from the island." Flora says over her shoulder.
"There's still time. No doubt they'll be frothing at the door soon enough. Half of them can't even read." She jests, before reaching for a bottle of red whose waxy seal was encased in a thick layer of dust. It was at that moment a little wine spider snuck out from around the bottle, and, with a uneasy scream, the Doubletake flinched away clutching the bottle against her chest. "Fuckin—" Thinking WINE SPIDER loudly in her thoughts just in case Jack heard her and debated coming running (though really, as if he would), Flora forced herself to settle, laughing it off with a roll of her eyes.
Bringing the bottle over with a corkscrew in hand, Flora set it down on the table between them before gesturing at the bottle. "The longer they sit, the better they become if they're bottled correctly." She explains, just in case the Reaper thought the Doubletake trying to snub her by bringing over some old and forgotten vintage.
Lifting out the cork with a satisfying pop!, Flora poured them each a healthy glass of a red so dark as to look like a bruised plum. "Cheers!" Raising her glass, she holds it towards Dahlia. "To...queens."
"There's still time. No doubt they'll be frothing at the door soon enough. Half of them can't even read." She jests, before reaching for a bottle of red whose waxy seal was encased in a thick layer of dust. It was at that moment a little wine spider snuck out from around the bottle, and, with a uneasy scream, the Doubletake flinched away clutching the bottle against her chest. "Fuckin—" Thinking WINE SPIDER loudly in her thoughts just in case Jack heard her and debated coming running (though really, as if he would), Flora forced herself to settle, laughing it off with a roll of her eyes.
Bringing the bottle over with a corkscrew in hand, Flora set it down on the table between them before gesturing at the bottle. "The longer they sit, the better they become if they're bottled correctly." She explains, just in case the Reaper thought the Doubletake trying to snub her by bringing over some old and forgotten vintage.
Lifting out the cork with a satisfying pop!, Flora poured them each a healthy glass of a red so dark as to look like a bruised plum. "Cheers!" Raising her glass, she holds it towards Dahlia. "To...queens."
what doesn't kill me makes
me want you more
me want you more
