we show off our different scarlet letters
Having held her breath as Asta's fingers went to work on the other buttons so that she'd not disrespect him (or embarrass herself) by gasping at the sight of his scars, Flora's eyes widened at the brutal history written across the butcher's body. Some of the strokes appeared succinct whereas others were written with a far lazier if not more punishing hand. Others still, those that appeared the oldest, had seemingly taken on a life of their own, twisting over muscle and bone like rotten tree roots.
Flora's eyes flicker back to Asta's as he confirms, such that he'll no doubt see the way her lips tremble ever so slightly as he presses himself against her hands. The gesture had no right to be as hot as it was, but gods if Flora wasn't quite sure that the sudden heat in her belly wasn't something that could burn someone capable of even walking through flames.
Softly her palms traced the raised topography as her fingertips pressed against the untouched flesh. Letting the pathways of previous torture dictate where her hands roamed, it was only after a few moments that she realized she'd been holding her breath. "I hate that." The queen says softly, knowing on some level what it was to be questioned based on your appearance or to have stories supplement truths people were too lazy or ignorant to find out for themselves. Suddenly Flora's eyes narrowed a touch, as a shiver of mischief found its way back into her gaze. "I take it you're okay with a little bit of pain then..?" She asks, glancing over his shoulder at her bag before tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.
Flora's eyes flicker back to Asta's as he confirms, such that he'll no doubt see the way her lips tremble ever so slightly as he presses himself against her hands. The gesture had no right to be as hot as it was, but gods if Flora wasn't quite sure that the sudden heat in her belly wasn't something that could burn someone capable of even walking through flames.
Softly her palms traced the raised topography as her fingertips pressed against the untouched flesh. Letting the pathways of previous torture dictate where her hands roamed, it was only after a few moments that she realized she'd been holding her breath. "I hate that." The queen says softly, knowing on some level what it was to be questioned based on your appearance or to have stories supplement truths people were too lazy or ignorant to find out for themselves. Suddenly Flora's eyes narrowed a touch, as a shiver of mischief found its way back into her gaze. "I take it you're okay with a little bit of pain then..?" She asks, glancing over his shoulder at her bag before tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.
