flora
"Apologize?" Flora repeats, her brows lifting as if he’d suggested Pierce might also bake her an apology pie. "No, nothing like that. But I mean, really it was my fault for being such a pest, y'know? Like, I could have just left the Oerwoud and the Greatwood alone and just stuck to Torchline, so it's my bad when you think about it." Her words are light, almost airy, but there’s something brittle beneath them. She lifts her glass again, though it’s empty now, and turns it upside down with a soft clink. Her fingers remain curled around it, like holding onto something solid might keep the rest of her from slipping.
A smile—thin and tired—pulls at the corner of her mouth, but it never quite reaches her eyes. "But Ronin brought me back, so no harm done." Except quite a lot of harm had been done, to both Flora and Jack, not that you'd know it based on the queen's casual retelling.
"Thanks, though," she says after a pause, quieter now. "For caring. Even if it’s been years and we barely know each other anymore." She leans back, a deep breath catching in her chest as she lets it go. "Anyway, that’s my dramatic monologue for the evening. Your turn. Any near-death experiences lately? Or just the usual underground fight club chaos?"
A smile—thin and tired—pulls at the corner of her mouth, but it never quite reaches her eyes. "But Ronin brought me back, so no harm done." Except quite a lot of harm had been done, to both Flora and Jack, not that you'd know it based on the queen's casual retelling.
"Thanks, though," she says after a pause, quieter now. "For caring. Even if it’s been years and we barely know each other anymore." She leans back, a deep breath catching in her chest as she lets it go. "Anyway, that’s my dramatic monologue for the evening. Your turn. Any near-death experiences lately? Or just the usual underground fight club chaos?"
We can't make any promises now can we babe?
But you can make me a drink.
But you can make me a drink.
