Koa
You keep telling me to live right
Don't worry, Flora: Koa lacks the situational awareness to have actually identified the minefield of drama he's accidentally brushed against. He just figures, y'know, if he was a gorgeous queen of Torchline, being swept away by a roguish pirate captain might be a fantasy he'd entertain.
Briefly reassured by the hummed declaration, the Dragoon's frown begins to soften - only to take on a puzzled tilt at the laughing remark that follows. "Isn't, like, your whole family demigods?" Koa asks bemusedly, raising an eyebrow and attempting to gauge how serious this stipulation is. Before he might have laughed it off, pointing out his utter lack of potential to gain such a high honor. But he'd be lying if after his last encounter with Safrin the idea hadn't begun to percolate within his mind, even with all the warnings he's been given against going down that exact path.
It isn't worth dwelling on too hard right now, of course. Right now is for butterflies in their stomachs and the sun kissing their skin, for the way her smile breaks like a wave, drowning him in its radiant glow. It's for the way he's pulling her toward him, claiming yet another sweet, slow kiss.
Leaning his forehead against Flora's, the Dragoon gives a sigh. "You're my sunflower, Flora," he hums, smiling as their noses touch. "I couldn't turn away from you, even if if I tried."
Which would make him the sunflower in this metaphor, yes, but our boy isn't known for being great at botany. Or words.
Look, it's the thought that counts.
Briefly reassured by the hummed declaration, the Dragoon's frown begins to soften - only to take on a puzzled tilt at the laughing remark that follows. "Isn't, like, your whole family demigods?" Koa asks bemusedly, raising an eyebrow and attempting to gauge how serious this stipulation is. Before he might have laughed it off, pointing out his utter lack of potential to gain such a high honor. But he'd be lying if after his last encounter with Safrin the idea hadn't begun to percolate within his mind, even with all the warnings he's been given against going down that exact path.
It isn't worth dwelling on too hard right now, of course. Right now is for butterflies in their stomachs and the sun kissing their skin, for the way her smile breaks like a wave, drowning him in its radiant glow. It's for the way he's pulling her toward him, claiming yet another sweet, slow kiss.
Leaning his forehead against Flora's, the Dragoon gives a sigh. "You're my sunflower, Flora," he hums, smiling as their noses touch. "I couldn't turn away from you, even if if I tried."
Which would make him the sunflower in this metaphor, yes, but our boy isn't known for being great at botany. Or words.
Look, it's the thought that counts.
You don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then
