lay your soul onto mine
Flora maintains her composure under Hadama's solemn gaze, the air between them thick with unspoken thoughts and the heavy weight of what has and hasn't been asked. Her eyes briefly flit across his face, catching the subtle changes in his expression—the weariness and the quiet resignation that flicker beneath his regal demeanor.
"Of course," she replies smoothly, her voice holding a note of practiced understanding, though her mind races with thoughts of what might be hidden in the picnic basket. "I never meant to burden you, Hadama, that was totally my bad."
She gestures towards the basket with a casual flick of her wrist, her gaze sharpening slightly. "Lets see what's inside." Her eyes met Hadama's with a blend of friendship and the unspoken challenge. Surely he wouldn't be so foolish as to submerge a delicate flower in the steaming hot waters of Frey's breath, so the only other place the rose could be was hidden inside the basket placed so curiously close to the Tidebreaker.
"Show me there's no rose and we can chit-chat about anything you like, babe."
"Of course," she replies smoothly, her voice holding a note of practiced understanding, though her mind races with thoughts of what might be hidden in the picnic basket. "I never meant to burden you, Hadama, that was totally my bad."
She gestures towards the basket with a casual flick of her wrist, her gaze sharpening slightly. "Lets see what's inside." Her eyes met Hadama's with a blend of friendship and the unspoken challenge. Surely he wouldn't be so foolish as to submerge a delicate flower in the steaming hot waters of Frey's breath, so the only other place the rose could be was hidden inside the basket placed so curiously close to the Tidebreaker.
"Show me there's no rose and we can chit-chat about anything you like, babe."
