i could be the reason you can't sleep at night
"Obviously," Flora calls out as she reappears in the hallway, arms full of mismatched towels that smell like the sea and sun-bleached afternoons, "the feather boa is for emergencies. What if I get stranded and need to attract the attention of a passing skyship? Or seduce a pirate? Or perform an impromptu drag number? You have to be ready for these things."
She dumps the towels into a half-filled box marked maybe useful?? in aggressively glittery pen before spinning toward the growing chaos of the living room. "Kai, I’m the queen," she says, as if that alone justifies the pillow hoard. "I’m not about to sleep on some lumpy-ass single sailboat mattress like I don’t have standards. And I need options." She gestures broadly at the sea of chaos. "That one’s memory foam, that one’s down, the long one’s for cuddling, and the squishy pink one is emotional support. Obviously."
Spice zips through the kitchen behind her in a blur of ivory and chill, barking a miniature burst of frost at Tarak in greeting before diving beneath one of the boxes like it’s a snow fort.
Flora sighs dramatically. "This is going terribly. I’ve packed one and a half boxes, and I’m emotionally overwhelmed by the concept of choosing only six pairs of sunglasses. I’m spiralling." She drops onto the couch beside one of the open boxes and flings her legs up, her ankle brushing Kaisel’s hip like she might use him as a footrest if he stands still too long. "Please someone tell me I’m doing great."
Round 1: quick! emotional support for the queen!
She dumps the towels into a half-filled box marked maybe useful?? in aggressively glittery pen before spinning toward the growing chaos of the living room. "Kai, I’m the queen," she says, as if that alone justifies the pillow hoard. "I’m not about to sleep on some lumpy-ass single sailboat mattress like I don’t have standards. And I need options." She gestures broadly at the sea of chaos. "That one’s memory foam, that one’s down, the long one’s for cuddling, and the squishy pink one is emotional support. Obviously."
Spice zips through the kitchen behind her in a blur of ivory and chill, barking a miniature burst of frost at Tarak in greeting before diving beneath one of the boxes like it’s a snow fort.
Flora sighs dramatically. "This is going terribly. I’ve packed one and a half boxes, and I’m emotionally overwhelmed by the concept of choosing only six pairs of sunglasses. I’m spiralling." She drops onto the couch beside one of the open boxes and flings her legs up, her ankle brushing Kaisel’s hip like she might use him as a footrest if he stands still too long. "Please someone tell me I’m doing great."
Round 1: quick! emotional support for the queen!
