flora
Flora leans against the bar, her posture casually elegant despite the intensity of their conversation. "You? Chatty?" she teases with exaggerated disbelief, one hand pressing theatrically against her chest as if scandalized. "Next you’ll be telling me water is wet and Hadama has terrible taste in hats."
But there’s a softer, more thoughtful undercurrent beneath her playful sass. Her gaze skims Maea again, assessing without sharpness, genuinely considering the other woman's admission. Her fingers toy absently with the rim of her glass, tracing idle circles that seem to mirror the subtle easing of tension between them.
Finally, Flora lets out a breath, a smile—genuine this time—lifting the corners of her mouth. "So you're really gonna stay in the Greatwood, huh?"
But there’s a softer, more thoughtful undercurrent beneath her playful sass. Her gaze skims Maea again, assessing without sharpness, genuinely considering the other woman's admission. Her fingers toy absently with the rim of her glass, tracing idle circles that seem to mirror the subtle easing of tension between them.
Finally, Flora lets out a breath, a smile—genuine this time—lifting the corners of her mouth. "So you're really gonna stay in the Greatwood, huh?"
We need love, But all we want is danger
We team up, Then switch sides like a record changer
We team up, Then switch sides like a record changer
