Hotaru
I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you
Half-uttered sentences are hardly arguments and clearly that's why they're so disjointed; Hotaru can understand the desire to rebel on the basis of wounded pride, especially when Flora is no longer a child. But mother knows best.But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you
Too many times she has paused and listened. Too many times Flora has wheedled and convinced her way out of Hotaru's protection and into the fire. This time, she won't question and prompt when her daughter falters. If Flora wanted to engage in a debate with the Valkyrie, she should have come prepared with greater defenses than trailing interrogatives and conjunctions.
"It's time he meets your mother anyway," she dismisses readily, willing to compromise if it means avoiding further exertion of her magic and a swifter assurance of Flora's safety. "Will he not leave even at your request?" Her magic lies impatient beneath the surface, held at bay on the remaining thread of reverence she has for her daughter's free will. Further questions and options brew behind her pursed lips but go no further. Not yet. Safely held in her palm, Flora's cheek is kissed by the brush of her thumb in slow sweeping arcs, lulling and comforting her without needing so much as a drop of magic.
I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me
