flora
Flora lets out a watery little laugh at the way Mateo wiggles his fingers, shaking her head as she sniffles and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. The cocktail the botanist has plunked down in front of her is ridiculous and yet she still reaches for it, taking a long, steadying sip as she tries to wrangle her emotions into something more manageable.
"I mean..." It's a difficult question to answer because while they'd certainly had certain explicit conversations about how Flora would likely hate being with someone like Jack, the subject of marriage had only come up inside of her own thoughts, which, for most couples, would mean that no it hadn't been talked about. "...he says things like how I'm stuck with him forever, but no, we haven't ever really...gone into it."
A humourless laugh bubbles up in the back of her throat which Flora promptly drowns with another sip of Mateo's concoction. "I’ve always figured if it ever was gonna happen, I’d have to be the one to ask. And even then, I don’t know if he’d say yes." There’s no bitterness in it, not really—just a resigned sort of acceptance that’s always been there, tucked neatly behind all the brighter, happier parts of her love for him.
"But like—he knows me. And he felt—" She cuts herself off with another sip of her drink, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Why would he get me a dress that looks like that? And then just—nothing when he realized how much it hurt? Like I was the idiot for thinking it for even a second."
"I mean..." It's a difficult question to answer because while they'd certainly had certain explicit conversations about how Flora would likely hate being with someone like Jack, the subject of marriage had only come up inside of her own thoughts, which, for most couples, would mean that no it hadn't been talked about. "...he says things like how I'm stuck with him forever, but no, we haven't ever really...gone into it."
A humourless laugh bubbles up in the back of her throat which Flora promptly drowns with another sip of Mateo's concoction. "I’ve always figured if it ever was gonna happen, I’d have to be the one to ask. And even then, I don’t know if he’d say yes." There’s no bitterness in it, not really—just a resigned sort of acceptance that’s always been there, tucked neatly behind all the brighter, happier parts of her love for him.
"But like—he knows me. And he felt—" She cuts herself off with another sip of her drink, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Why would he get me a dress that looks like that? And then just—nothing when he realized how much it hurt? Like I was the idiot for thinking it for even a second."
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
