candlewax & polaroids on the hardwood floor
"Don't you threaten me with a good time," she purrs. Unlike the captain or Cassian, apparently, Flora's body had no cool-down period built into it, such that if he was going to continue to intentionally try and steal her breath away, he'd find himself with her thighs pressed against his cheeks, silencing him for long enough until other parts of him were ready to be used again.
Shooting him a look which was a mixture of lust and playful annoyance, Flora turns her attention back to the countertop and the ingredients set out upon it. Snatching the recipe from his hands with a flourish, she glances at the measurements. "Butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon," she repeats, her voice soft and sing-song as if weighing the enormity of the task. "You’re not worried I’ll mess it up?" she teases, already setting her mug down. "That’s a lot of responsibility for someone with my, let’s say, track record." Butter softens under her fingers, sugar glitters in the morning light, and cinnamon clouds in the air like perfume as Flora combines the ingredients.
As she works, a streak of cinnamon sugar ends up smudged across her cheek, but she doesn’t notice, not as she grabs a whisk and begins to meticulously combine the ingredients together. "You think that seer, Alys, ever saw this in the cards?" Glancing over her shoulder at him, Flora raises her eyebrows. This of course being a strange moment of normalcy that felt wildly out of character for both of them, and yet somehow deserved just the same.
Shooting him a look which was a mixture of lust and playful annoyance, Flora turns her attention back to the countertop and the ingredients set out upon it. Snatching the recipe from his hands with a flourish, she glances at the measurements. "Butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon," she repeats, her voice soft and sing-song as if weighing the enormity of the task. "You’re not worried I’ll mess it up?" she teases, already setting her mug down. "That’s a lot of responsibility for someone with my, let’s say, track record." Butter softens under her fingers, sugar glitters in the morning light, and cinnamon clouds in the air like perfume as Flora combines the ingredients.
As she works, a streak of cinnamon sugar ends up smudged across her cheek, but she doesn’t notice, not as she grabs a whisk and begins to meticulously combine the ingredients together. "You think that seer, Alys, ever saw this in the cards?" Glancing over her shoulder at him, Flora raises her eyebrows. This of course being a strange moment of normalcy that felt wildly out of character for both of them, and yet somehow deserved just the same.
