flora
"Mmmm." Flora wordlessly agrees as she stares out across the sea, the bleary blue-grey of the sky and water blurring together at the horizon line making it almost impossible to differentiate without blinking several times.
Wearing a shapeless sweater that had lost all colour thanks to age, the Doubletake had her arms wrapped tightly against her body as she peered out, only unfurling every now and then to push away wisps of golden hair that had fallen out of the knot she'd bound her curls in. Though she knew that if and when they found the little houseboat it would very likely be deserted, the queen couldn't shake the foreboding that had twisted her stomach into tight knots of apprehension which had her shoulders cowed forward and her eyes looking haunted.
Surely there was no blaming her mother for what had happened, and by all standards Flora had made it out absolutely fine, but if anything that somehow made it worse. What was she meant to do with all her melancholy? With all her fury and hurt and compounded feelings of rejection and betrayal when what Hotaru had done was out of her choosing?
Glancing over her shoulder at Jack and Seven—the pair looking adorably ruffled by the sea winds—Flora tried for a smile that was as plastic and obvious as a bouquet of fake flowers thrown into a dying garden.
Wearing a shapeless sweater that had lost all colour thanks to age, the Doubletake had her arms wrapped tightly against her body as she peered out, only unfurling every now and then to push away wisps of golden hair that had fallen out of the knot she'd bound her curls in. Though she knew that if and when they found the little houseboat it would very likely be deserted, the queen couldn't shake the foreboding that had twisted her stomach into tight knots of apprehension which had her shoulders cowed forward and her eyes looking haunted.
Surely there was no blaming her mother for what had happened, and by all standards Flora had made it out absolutely fine, but if anything that somehow made it worse. What was she meant to do with all her melancholy? With all her fury and hurt and compounded feelings of rejection and betrayal when what Hotaru had done was out of her choosing?
Glancing over her shoulder at Jack and Seven—the pair looking adorably ruffled by the sea winds—Flora tried for a smile that was as plastic and obvious as a bouquet of fake flowers thrown into a dying garden.
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
