your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Flora emerges from one of the backrooms, the sound of Maea’s voice jolting her out of a distracted daze. Her curls, usually so carefully arranged, are loose and tousled, and her clothing, though still vibrant and tropical, lacks the usual immaculate flair. It’s clear enough that the queen’s mind is elsewhere, thoughts tangled up in plans of Stormbreak, Dahlia, and a hundred potential pitfalls.
But at the sight of Maea—and Liam hovering protectively behind her—Flora straightens, the distraction momentarily fading into something sharper, more present. Her aqua gaze quickly flickers over the crate Maea carries, brows arching with cautious curiosity.
"Maea," Flora greets evenly, offering a warmer nod to Liam, acknowledging his presence with quiet familiarity. "Liam."
She steps closer, arms crossing loosely as she studies Maea’s face. "You found one, then?" she asks, her voice quieter, expression carefully unreadable though her eyes betray a faint glimmer of hope—and perhaps something else, uncertain and hesitant because gods if this wouldn't be perfect timing for what she had planned.
But at the sight of Maea—and Liam hovering protectively behind her—Flora straightens, the distraction momentarily fading into something sharper, more present. Her aqua gaze quickly flickers over the crate Maea carries, brows arching with cautious curiosity.
"Maea," Flora greets evenly, offering a warmer nod to Liam, acknowledging his presence with quiet familiarity. "Liam."
She steps closer, arms crossing loosely as she studies Maea’s face. "You found one, then?" she asks, her voice quieter, expression carefully unreadable though her eyes betray a faint glimmer of hope—and perhaps something else, uncertain and hesitant because gods if this wouldn't be perfect timing for what she had planned.
