mistaking cardiac arrest for butterflies
Flora lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching her pearls—well, her gold chains—as if deeply offended. "Dangerous? Liam, how dare you suggest that I, a beloved queen and role model for Torchline’s impressionable youth, would ever engage in anything remotely reckless."
But her grin gives her away, bright and unrepentant.
With a flick of her wrist, she leans back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other. "Look, if I waited for things to be safe, I’d still be stuck behind the bar pretending to be interested in trade tariffs while the Family turned people into ash." Her voice softens just a touch, her aqua eyes catching on his. "You know how it is. Sometimes you’ve got to move when you see an opening." She watches him for a moment, something gentler slipping into her expression. "I know you’re trying to look out for me. And… that means a lot, really." Her voice dips in sincerity, a rare vulnerability peeking through before she masks it again with a smirk. "But I make a terrible damsel. And I’ve got a nasty habit of ignoring good advice."
She leans forward again, playful now, conspiratorial once more. "But if it helps, I am being smart," she tilts her head, letting a lock of blonde hair fall over her shoulder, "I think, anyway." There’s more she wants to say. More she can’t say. But for now, she just rests her chin on her hand, watching him like she’s daring him to call her out again. "Besides," she adds with a wink, "if I get into trouble, I know this incredibly responsible old soldier who could probably bail me out."
But her grin gives her away, bright and unrepentant.
With a flick of her wrist, she leans back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other. "Look, if I waited for things to be safe, I’d still be stuck behind the bar pretending to be interested in trade tariffs while the Family turned people into ash." Her voice softens just a touch, her aqua eyes catching on his. "You know how it is. Sometimes you’ve got to move when you see an opening." She watches him for a moment, something gentler slipping into her expression. "I know you’re trying to look out for me. And… that means a lot, really." Her voice dips in sincerity, a rare vulnerability peeking through before she masks it again with a smirk. "But I make a terrible damsel. And I’ve got a nasty habit of ignoring good advice."
She leans forward again, playful now, conspiratorial once more. "But if it helps, I am being smart," she tilts her head, letting a lock of blonde hair fall over her shoulder, "I think, anyway." There’s more she wants to say. More she can’t say. But for now, she just rests her chin on her hand, watching him like she’s daring him to call her out again. "Besides," she adds with a wink, "if I get into trouble, I know this incredibly responsible old soldier who could probably bail me out."
