flora
"Ssssssssssstop!" Swatting at Danta's hands, Flora does her best to nudge him out of the way with her hip and rescue the bottle of sambuca that he's poured over the counter as much as into the shot glasses. It isn't that she minds the waste, it's that she hates the taste. "Come're sweet teeth and try this." She purrs to Asta—wait, where was Asta? The shot she'd made for him would taste like black cherry and chocolate; through trial and error earlier that evening she'd discovered that the butcher had quite the sweet tooth, hence the shots she was mixing for him and his new affectionate nickname.
Blinking hard to bring the Maverick back into focus from where he'd started swimming around, Flora finds herself laughing so hard that her stomach begins to hurt. "Wait, so the cow is the one who gets to use the cowbell?" Cackling at that, she mistakenly grabs one of the sambuca shots, and, after downing it, hisses a string of curses into the back of her hands.
Blinking hard to bring the Maverick back into focus from where he'd started swimming around, Flora finds herself laughing so hard that her stomach begins to hurt. "Wait, so the cow is the one who gets to use the cowbell?" Cackling at that, she mistakenly grabs one of the sambuca shots, and, after downing it, hisses a string of curses into the back of her hands.
Flexing like a goddamn acrobat
Me and karma vibe like that
Me and karma vibe like that
