Flora
Lifting a brow, the queen runs her tongue along her teeth as her fingers continue to dance across the fabric. "It's nice having pieces that can be flexible, mmm?" Despite this conversation, Flora still makes a show of looking adorably surprised when Asta casually reveals that the gown he'd been constructing had been for her. "I'd say your floor, but I'm sure you'd never let something so beautiful touch the ground." Flora laughs, and though the shopkeeper glances up at this, he's either not at all bothered by the queen's flirting, knows enough to keep quiet about it, or is simply relieved to hear that wherever the dress goes, it won't be onto the floor.
"My house will be fine, thank you." She answers with a slight eye-roll as the shopkeeper clears his throat. Of course, the flirtatious behaviour isn't just one-sided much as Asta might not understand it, such that once he has everything he needs, the tailor disappears without a word to leave the couple to their antics.
"Astaroth!" The queen laughs loudly before nudging the butcher with her hip, lips falling playfully open as his words could be—and absolutely are—misconstrued. Mischief sparkles in her eyes as she shakes her head at him, feigning outrage for his forwardness before his hand slips against hers and they're back behind the curtain.
There was something about watching Asta from the mirror rather than over her shoulder that made Flora feel as though she was standing in the Celestine, watching some injured predator who was very nearly healed and ready to go. Docile if only because it had all its needs met, with no nearby enemies or threats, one could be lulled into thinking it was harmless in all settings. Flora wasn't so foolish as to have forgotten what had happened when last they were together, but gods it was so easy to toe the line with the butcher firmly on one side of it, rather than straddling it for dear life.
Sipping in a breath that feels far too shallow, and not simply because of the corset, Flora sighs softly as the butcher's hands wander over her lace-covered body before a few quick movements of his fingers have the material all but relaxing off of her in waves of deepest red that pool at her feet. "Oh, are they?" She hums of the colour palette. "I had no idea."
Having put on just an ivory slip of silk to try the dresses with, Flora covers one of Asta's hands with her own as it rises up her belly if only so that his fingertips might brush against one of her nipples before pausing at her jaw. Her own hand continues to rise, tangling in his dark hair as she stretches onto her toes and leans back against him for balance, chin lifted. "Not a test." The queen says softly, her blue eyes blazing. "Only that...unless there was something else you wanted to do this afternoon, this might be your best chance of leaving me with a fitting memento of our date, mmm?"
"My house will be fine, thank you." She answers with a slight eye-roll as the shopkeeper clears his throat. Of course, the flirtatious behaviour isn't just one-sided much as Asta might not understand it, such that once he has everything he needs, the tailor disappears without a word to leave the couple to their antics.
"Astaroth!" The queen laughs loudly before nudging the butcher with her hip, lips falling playfully open as his words could be—and absolutely are—misconstrued. Mischief sparkles in her eyes as she shakes her head at him, feigning outrage for his forwardness before his hand slips against hers and they're back behind the curtain.
There was something about watching Asta from the mirror rather than over her shoulder that made Flora feel as though she was standing in the Celestine, watching some injured predator who was very nearly healed and ready to go. Docile if only because it had all its needs met, with no nearby enemies or threats, one could be lulled into thinking it was harmless in all settings. Flora wasn't so foolish as to have forgotten what had happened when last they were together, but gods it was so easy to toe the line with the butcher firmly on one side of it, rather than straddling it for dear life.
Sipping in a breath that feels far too shallow, and not simply because of the corset, Flora sighs softly as the butcher's hands wander over her lace-covered body before a few quick movements of his fingers have the material all but relaxing off of her in waves of deepest red that pool at her feet. "Oh, are they?" She hums of the colour palette. "I had no idea."
Having put on just an ivory slip of silk to try the dresses with, Flora covers one of Asta's hands with her own as it rises up her belly if only so that his fingertips might brush against one of her nipples before pausing at her jaw. Her own hand continues to rise, tangling in his dark hair as she stretches onto her toes and leans back against him for balance, chin lifted. "Not a test." The queen says softly, her blue eyes blazing. "Only that...unless there was something else you wanted to do this afternoon, this might be your best chance of leaving me with a fitting memento of our date, mmm?"
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
