i'd wipe the dirt off your name with the shirt off my back
Flora perks up, curls bouncing slightly as she tilts her head toward Sohalia. "Wait—what quest?" Her tone is bright, her eyes gleaming with the kind of tipsy curiosity that only gets louder with liquor. "Because I swear, if you’re off having weird solo adventures without me, I’ll riot."
Her gaze drifts back to the shot in front of her, fingers tracing the rim slowly. It’s probably a very bad idea—her stomach’s already doing lazy, sloshy flips—but she’s made worse decisions on less alcohol and more pride. She knows how it feels to ache with wanting something that doesn’t want you back, to carry the shape of someone’s absence like a bruise under the skin.
So when Sohalia says maybe we’re better off without it, Flora huffs softly and nods. "Love is stupid," she mutters. "There is literally nothing a good friend and a vibrator can’t solve." The words hang there, wobbly and defiant—but not quite true. Not with the ache in her ribs or the way her voice goes a little too quiet at the end.
So Flora lifts the final shot. "To love," she says, voice a touch raw but still wrapped in glitter. "And to getting over it the loud, messy way." She knocks it back, face scrunching as the burn claws its way down. "Fuck," she wheezes, eyes watering. But it was still better than crying over Jack.
Her gaze drifts back to the shot in front of her, fingers tracing the rim slowly. It’s probably a very bad idea—her stomach’s already doing lazy, sloshy flips—but she’s made worse decisions on less alcohol and more pride. She knows how it feels to ache with wanting something that doesn’t want you back, to carry the shape of someone’s absence like a bruise under the skin.
So when Sohalia says maybe we’re better off without it, Flora huffs softly and nods. "Love is stupid," she mutters. "There is literally nothing a good friend and a vibrator can’t solve." The words hang there, wobbly and defiant—but not quite true. Not with the ache in her ribs or the way her voice goes a little too quiet at the end.
So Flora lifts the final shot. "To love," she says, voice a touch raw but still wrapped in glitter. "And to getting over it the loud, messy way." She knocks it back, face scrunching as the burn claws its way down. "Fuck," she wheezes, eyes watering. But it was still better than crying over Jack.
