marked me like a bloodstain
Clenching her teeth together for all the good it does her, Flora's mind is too full of youthful fury to form words let alone a witty retort, such that she's left silently glaring at the captain and hating him all the more for the cool edge to his voice.
Barking out a sudden laugh, the queen tilts her head back as she sneers up at the stars overhead, fresh tears prickling against the backs of her eyes. "As it turns out, I'm fucking not." She snaps hollowly. Gesturing to the departed Tall Man, to what she was wearing (or rather, the lack of it), the blood stains that were hidden by the pattern of Asta's shirt but not invisible to someone looking. She'd have gestured to the messiness of her situationship with both Jack and Koa if she didn't think it would do more harm than good.
"Besides, you don't get to decide." Rubbing her cheek against her shoulder and expecting a snarl of pain that doesn't come, Flora shifts her bag and wonders if it would do her any good to become invisible or to use the compass to go back to the fountain. No sooner had she thought it, though, the plans became irrelevant. "That isn't part of this. I keep my mouth shut about you, and you fuck me against doors or in pretty rooms." It hurts to say, because she's never really given voice to just how transactional it all was, so much so that she can barely breathe through her nose anymore but for the tears clogging her sinuses.
"Fuck," She chokes, turning away from him, hardly able to see as she begins the walk home.
Barking out a sudden laugh, the queen tilts her head back as she sneers up at the stars overhead, fresh tears prickling against the backs of her eyes. "As it turns out, I'm fucking not." She snaps hollowly. Gesturing to the departed Tall Man, to what she was wearing (or rather, the lack of it), the blood stains that were hidden by the pattern of Asta's shirt but not invisible to someone looking. She'd have gestured to the messiness of her situationship with both Jack and Koa if she didn't think it would do more harm than good.
"Besides, you don't get to decide." Rubbing her cheek against her shoulder and expecting a snarl of pain that doesn't come, Flora shifts her bag and wonders if it would do her any good to become invisible or to use the compass to go back to the fountain. No sooner had she thought it, though, the plans became irrelevant. "That isn't part of this. I keep my mouth shut about you, and you fuck me against doors or in pretty rooms." It hurts to say, because she's never really given voice to just how transactional it all was, so much so that she can barely breathe through her nose anymore but for the tears clogging her sinuses.
"Fuck," She chokes, turning away from him, hardly able to see as she begins the walk home.
