flora
Flora’s first sensation is the sharp tang of salt in the air, biting at her lips and filling her lungs as she jerks awake. Her body feels heavy, her limbs slow to respond, like she’s been dredged up from the bottom of the ocean. The next thing she registers is the sound—the deafening cacophony of her mother’s scream mingling with a growl she knows too well.
Her vision swims as she struggles to pushes herself upright, the weight of sleep still dragging at her. When the blur resolves, the sight in front of her makes her heart lurch painfully in her chest.
“Wh—” Her voice cracks like brittle glass, barely more than a whisper in this charged air. In front of her, her mother and Remi thrash and tear at each other, wings and claws and writhing limbs making monsters of them both. Magic sparks against the walls and floor; Flora swears she can feel it vibrating beneath her fingertips. “Stop!” She cries out, voice breaking on the word, but it sounds small in the confined space. Her hands fumble at the blankets twisted around her legs, heart leaping into her throat as she tries—and fails—to stand. Her legs refuse her commands, shaking as if weighted with chains. She blinks against the tears gathering in her eyes, vision rippling and distorting, unsure whether what she sees is real or some fevered dream.
Screaming seems to be the only thing she's capable of doing with any real efficacy, Flora twists on the bed as wild panic surges inside of her. And then Hotaru’s magic slams into her again, sharp and all-consuming, her mother's scream echoing in Flora's ears as darkness threatens to pull her under once more.
Her vision swims as she struggles to pushes herself upright, the weight of sleep still dragging at her. When the blur resolves, the sight in front of her makes her heart lurch painfully in her chest.
“Wh—” Her voice cracks like brittle glass, barely more than a whisper in this charged air. In front of her, her mother and Remi thrash and tear at each other, wings and claws and writhing limbs making monsters of them both. Magic sparks against the walls and floor; Flora swears she can feel it vibrating beneath her fingertips. “Stop!” She cries out, voice breaking on the word, but it sounds small in the confined space. Her hands fumble at the blankets twisted around her legs, heart leaping into her throat as she tries—and fails—to stand. Her legs refuse her commands, shaking as if weighted with chains. She blinks against the tears gathering in her eyes, vision rippling and distorting, unsure whether what she sees is real or some fevered dream.
Screaming seems to be the only thing she's capable of doing with any real efficacy, Flora twists on the bed as wild panic surges inside of her. And then Hotaru’s magic slams into her again, sharp and all-consuming, her mother's scream echoing in Flora's ears as darkness threatens to pull her under once more.
what doesn't kill me makes
me want you more
me want you more
