we show off our different scarlet letters
"Does it feel strange? To be both so old but also not?" Maybe it's a superficial question, but as the pair have yet to even crack open the second or third bottle of wine she'd put in her bag, Flora wasn't too worried about having not yet gotten to the meat of what made the butcher tick.
Flora's smile blooms as her name might imply that it would, and instead of answering she simply scrunches her nose in eager agreement. "We can even go shopping and pick out matching bathing suits before hand." She suggests before playfully leaning into him and helping herself to another sip of wine.
"Clever man." The queen murmurs as she watches Asta's tongue dance along the sharp edges of his teeth, her own flinching inside of her mouth as if trying to mirror the movements with the same cunning and dexterity. "Does it?" She wonders, of the trauma to his tongue. "Maybe I have something for that in my bag as well." Or between her legs as the quirk of her lips suggests.
"A rite you clearly passed." She hums, not prying for the details of how or why; the queen was here for him not to write his biography, but then..."Do you know...my twin brother died in my arms during the war and I don't have a single scar to show for the things I did.." For all of Flora's brightness and theatrics, for all that life had just handed to her, it had not been so easy that the sudden darkening of her eyes or the scarlet flush of her cheeks seemed misplaced. "Are there any you wouldn't hide?" Flora asks, her voice uncharacteristically uncertain as she peers up at him.
Flora's smile blooms as her name might imply that it would, and instead of answering she simply scrunches her nose in eager agreement. "We can even go shopping and pick out matching bathing suits before hand." She suggests before playfully leaning into him and helping herself to another sip of wine.
"Clever man." The queen murmurs as she watches Asta's tongue dance along the sharp edges of his teeth, her own flinching inside of her mouth as if trying to mirror the movements with the same cunning and dexterity. "Does it?" She wonders, of the trauma to his tongue. "Maybe I have something for that in my bag as well." Or between her legs as the quirk of her lips suggests.
"A rite you clearly passed." She hums, not prying for the details of how or why; the queen was here for him not to write his biography, but then..."Do you know...my twin brother died in my arms during the war and I don't have a single scar to show for the things I did.." For all of Flora's brightness and theatrics, for all that life had just handed to her, it had not been so easy that the sudden darkening of her eyes or the scarlet flush of her cheeks seemed misplaced. "Are there any you wouldn't hide?" Flora asks, her voice uncharacteristically uncertain as she peers up at him.
