you hate the crash, but you love the rush
Flora blinks, startled not by the words but by the way they land—earnest and unguarded in a way that feels suddenly intimate. It disarms her more than any dagger could. She turns her head slowly to look at Theea, her brows lifting, curiosity overtaking the ache in her chest like a hesitant flame catching on wet wood.
The corner of her mouth curls in a soft, wry smile. "You’re lucky, I like off the wall," she murmurs, her voice gentle but threaded with that familiar spark, the one that always flickered beneath the heartbreak. "Go on, hit me with it." A beat, then a teasing nudge of her shoulder against Theea’s again. "But if it’s that you’ve secretly got a crush on one of my dads or that you think river stars are hot, I swear to the gods I will push you into the floating river."
The corner of her mouth curls in a soft, wry smile. "You’re lucky, I like off the wall," she murmurs, her voice gentle but threaded with that familiar spark, the one that always flickered beneath the heartbreak. "Go on, hit me with it." A beat, then a teasing nudge of her shoulder against Theea’s again. "But if it’s that you’ve secretly got a crush on one of my dads or that you think river stars are hot, I swear to the gods I will push you into the floating river."
