never be so kind you forget to be clever
Flora doesn’t answer right away. Her fingers tap against her mug, slow and deliberate, as Ronin's words settle like silt through her chest. She knows he’s right—or at least, not wrong—and that only makes it harder to swallow. When she finally speaks, her voice is quieter, less defensive but no less firm. "I know you’ve carried the weight, but you aren't carrying it right now." Her gaze flicks sideways to him, expression softer than before. "And I know you don’t want me treating my life like it's disposable." She pauses, the corner of her mouth lifting, bitter and dry. "But isn't that the point of your abilities? That we can take certain calculated risks?" She shrugs, curls slipping loose from the braid over her shoulder. "I'm of way more use to people even temporarily dead than I am hiding away in Torchline and putting a target on the backs of those I care about."
Drawing in a breath, Flora glances down at her mug. "Thanks for helping with the boat." She takes another sip of tea, wondering if this was the part where she was meant to awkwardly shuffle out of the houseboat.
Drawing in a breath, Flora glances down at her mug. "Thanks for helping with the boat." She takes another sip of tea, wondering if this was the part where she was meant to awkwardly shuffle out of the houseboat.
