marked me like a bloodstain
Not having access to his thoughts, as Jack turns to leave Flora feels a bright arch of pain streak across one of her knees where her nails have sliced into the skin. Blinking in surprise, especially after the evening she'd had, she can't deny the logic her hands had likely been striving for: blood had kept Asta close, why shouldn't it also work on Jack? Wiping away at the skin as the fountain did its work, Flora glances up to see Jack taking a seat, and it only dawns on her belatedly that he hadn't left. He'd just given her exactly the amount of space she needed.
Knowing it couldn't be genuine kindness of the captain's part—was the bench 29 feet away then?—Flora eyes the captain a touch distrustfully before she rolls her eyes. "What, you couldn't have offered before you walked over there?" She wonders, her smile forced but painless.
Looking down at her knees, Flora hazards a glance toward the captain before surreptitiously letting one of her thighs fall open ever so slightly that she might assess the remaining damage. The wound had stopped healing and now the puncture marks were all but closed. In a few more minutes they'd be gone completely. "Just...uhm.." Go on, Flora, what was the miscommunication? Frowning, it not being the sort of thing she could say without unfairly smearing Asta's name in the process, the queen lifts her eyes up toward the stars and exhales. "Just one of those times where what you ordered on the menu wasn't exactly what you got." Had Jack still been in her mind, if the bench really wasn't 30ft away, he'd no doubt notice the way the landscape of Flora's mind shifted, tricking itself. When she defended Asta her edges softened, the justifications of what he'd done building up layer by layer until nothing was sharp anymore. It was only when she thought about the way it had all made her feel that the illusion fell away.
Knowing it couldn't be genuine kindness of the captain's part—was the bench 29 feet away then?—Flora eyes the captain a touch distrustfully before she rolls her eyes. "What, you couldn't have offered before you walked over there?" She wonders, her smile forced but painless.
Looking down at her knees, Flora hazards a glance toward the captain before surreptitiously letting one of her thighs fall open ever so slightly that she might assess the remaining damage. The wound had stopped healing and now the puncture marks were all but closed. In a few more minutes they'd be gone completely. "Just...uhm.." Go on, Flora, what was the miscommunication? Frowning, it not being the sort of thing she could say without unfairly smearing Asta's name in the process, the queen lifts her eyes up toward the stars and exhales. "Just one of those times where what you ordered on the menu wasn't exactly what you got." Had Jack still been in her mind, if the bench really wasn't 30ft away, he'd no doubt notice the way the landscape of Flora's mind shifted, tricking itself. When she defended Asta her edges softened, the justifications of what he'd done building up layer by layer until nothing was sharp anymore. It was only when she thought about the way it had all made her feel that the illusion fell away.
