you look like my next mistake
The combination of teenage fury and righteous anger has Flora practically incandescent as her eyes lift to lock on her father’s. A snarl tugs at her upper lip, curling it in a way that Remi should find familiar even if this sort of violence was rarely seen on the queen’s face.
"What is wrong with you?!" The Doubletake interrupts, her pace not slowing as if she might bully her father back outside by her mere presence alone; the inside of the houseboat was far too stuffy for her liking and nor did she think her dad deserved to have this conversation in the privacy of his home. Balling her hands into fists as if she might throw a punch, she raised her eyebrows, offering Remi exactly one opportunity to explain himself.
"What is wrong with you?!" The Doubletake interrupts, her pace not slowing as if she might bully her father back outside by her mere presence alone; the inside of the houseboat was far too stuffy for her liking and nor did she think her dad deserved to have this conversation in the privacy of his home. Balling her hands into fists as if she might throw a punch, she raised her eyebrows, offering Remi exactly one opportunity to explain himself.
