marked me like a bloodstain
Flora lets the weight of him sink in beside her, lets his arm fold around her shoulders like armour that doesn’t ask her to be anything but tired and still for a moment. Her cheek tips briefly against his shoulder. "Yeah," she murmurs, her lips twitching faintly. "Definitely the Family’s fault. Maybe Dahlia can sprout a conscience and choke on it."
The joke doesn’t quite land—it’s bitter, not funny—but the thought still brings a flicker of satisfaction before his offer catches her off guard. Her head lifts slightly, brows tugging upward as she glances at him, and for a second she just… looks at him. At the floodplain of strength and exhaustion, he carries like a second skin, at the softness buried beneath all that Korofi steel.
"Thanks," she says, quieter now. "I might actually take you up on that. Hadama is...pretty pissed at me as well." Her fingers curl around her cider again, but she doesn’t drink. "You’re the first person to offer that, you know."
The joke doesn’t quite land—it’s bitter, not funny—but the thought still brings a flicker of satisfaction before his offer catches her off guard. Her head lifts slightly, brows tugging upward as she glances at him, and for a second she just… looks at him. At the floodplain of strength and exhaustion, he carries like a second skin, at the softness buried beneath all that Korofi steel.
"Thanks," she says, quieter now. "I might actually take you up on that. Hadama is...pretty pissed at me as well." Her fingers curl around her cider again, but she doesn’t drink. "You’re the first person to offer that, you know."
