Flora
Flora lets out a theatrical huff, flipping her curls over one shoulder like the very suggestion of incompetence has bruised her soul. "Excuse me, but I’ll have you know that now that since I’m officially in my single era, working on my touch is basically a full-time job." Her grin sharpens, impish and pointed, looking entirely too pleased for someone making such a blatant masturbation reference simply to win an argument.
But when Mateo waves off his ship-wide nudity like it’s just another Tuesday, Flora lets out a groan and nearly drops her forehead to the wheel. "Yeah well you're my brother," she counters, "so it's different." Was it tho? She might’ve kept going—more teasing, more raised eyebrows over Ever’s firsts—but then Mateo says what he does about their dad, and the humour slides quietly out of her like the last of the tide.
"Yeah," she says, voice quieter now, words carrying more weight than sparkle. "When I died—" she says it plainly, like a weather report, which is only a touch horrifying, "—I asked them to bring me back. Told them I’d forgive them for everything if they revived Jack too." She watches the horizon a moment, lashes low. "I got what I wanted, right? I came back and he did too. But I think there’s always going to be this little part of me that’s still pissed at them. "
Turning her head, she meets Mateo’s gaze, her smile returning—but it’s different now, cracked around the edges. "So yeah. I get it. Wanting them to show up, and even when they do...still being mad about all the times they didn't." She bumps his arm lightly with her shoulder. "At least you got the best hair genes out of the deal. And dimples."
But when Mateo waves off his ship-wide nudity like it’s just another Tuesday, Flora lets out a groan and nearly drops her forehead to the wheel. "Yeah well you're my brother," she counters, "so it's different." Was it tho? She might’ve kept going—more teasing, more raised eyebrows over Ever’s firsts—but then Mateo says what he does about their dad, and the humour slides quietly out of her like the last of the tide.
"Yeah," she says, voice quieter now, words carrying more weight than sparkle. "When I died—" she says it plainly, like a weather report, which is only a touch horrifying, "—I asked them to bring me back. Told them I’d forgive them for everything if they revived Jack too." She watches the horizon a moment, lashes low. "I got what I wanted, right? I came back and he did too. But I think there’s always going to be this little part of me that’s still pissed at them. "
Turning her head, she meets Mateo’s gaze, her smile returning—but it’s different now, cracked around the edges. "So yeah. I get it. Wanting them to show up, and even when they do...still being mad about all the times they didn't." She bumps his arm lightly with her shoulder. "At least you got the best hair genes out of the deal. And dimples."
'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit
They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did
They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did
Code stolen from Queen Sky
