Kaisel
One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave
One foot in the grave
”Hey, I don’t deserve all the credit, he can be a dipshit just fine on his own,” Kaisel says with the thinnest of humor in his voice, a fondness for his thick-headed cousin apparent. As she leans back into him as he settles against her, it’s a quiet acknowledgement that she’s okay, even if there’s still a sharper edge to her, the jagged line of something long broken. The pain all these idiots have put themselves through, Kaisel can only sigh at it.
”I don’t know,” Kaisel says after a pause, as her explanation unveils more of the flower plan—aligning with the cryptic mess Koa had mentioned before. ”Do you think the complicated flower thing was all an attempt for him to get ready?” No one can really know since Kaisel did say something, but their conversation hadn’t seemed like one with a man who was certain of anything. Koa was struggling to find a way to live without regret or fear, and with love, especially one that’s already had its unblemished beginning, that just doesn’t seem possible.
Her laugh is like glass splintering, and he cranes his neck around to try and see her better. She’s hidden behind a wash of gold, and he gives up, letting his head rest against hers instead. ”I don’t know about that—she’s definitely hurt him too. That’s what I meant by less complicated...he might be considering neither road he’s already walked down.” Kaisel had suggested as much to him, though he’s certain Koa had already had similar thoughts. ”I don’t think he loves either of you any less, to be honest. But, the trust is gone, and that makes it hard no matter what.” Of course Koa is choosing not to try to trust again, but honestly, it’s such a mess Kaisel doesn’t blame him one bit.
He feels her pull away a bit. She shifts, subtle, but the absence of that minor heat is noticeable. What she says next kicks him in the gut. Flora had never seemed like someone to think so little of herself, and he’s surprised by the fracture in her otherwise overwhelming confidence. Guess that’s what he gets for always ignoring the hard shit with her and sticking with jokes, as if making her laugh is all it takes to erase the hurt. He twines his arm around hers, fingers sliding to fit in the spaces between hers, a quiet offer of strength and affection. ”You have it all wrong Flora,” he insists. ”She might shine, but sometimes the light can hurt your eyes.” His thumb traces a half circle against her hand, earnest in his belief of her. ”And you—Doubletake—you’re impossible to look away from. That’s why all heads turn right back towards you.”
”I don’t know,” Kaisel says after a pause, as her explanation unveils more of the flower plan—aligning with the cryptic mess Koa had mentioned before. ”Do you think the complicated flower thing was all an attempt for him to get ready?” No one can really know since Kaisel did say something, but their conversation hadn’t seemed like one with a man who was certain of anything. Koa was struggling to find a way to live without regret or fear, and with love, especially one that’s already had its unblemished beginning, that just doesn’t seem possible.
Her laugh is like glass splintering, and he cranes his neck around to try and see her better. She’s hidden behind a wash of gold, and he gives up, letting his head rest against hers instead. ”I don’t know about that—she’s definitely hurt him too. That’s what I meant by less complicated...he might be considering neither road he’s already walked down.” Kaisel had suggested as much to him, though he’s certain Koa had already had similar thoughts. ”I don’t think he loves either of you any less, to be honest. But, the trust is gone, and that makes it hard no matter what.” Of course Koa is choosing not to try to trust again, but honestly, it’s such a mess Kaisel doesn’t blame him one bit.
He feels her pull away a bit. She shifts, subtle, but the absence of that minor heat is noticeable. What she says next kicks him in the gut. Flora had never seemed like someone to think so little of herself, and he’s surprised by the fracture in her otherwise overwhelming confidence. Guess that’s what he gets for always ignoring the hard shit with her and sticking with jokes, as if making her laugh is all it takes to erase the hurt. He twines his arm around hers, fingers sliding to fit in the spaces between hers, a quiet offer of strength and affection. ”You have it all wrong Flora,” he insists. ”She might shine, but sometimes the light can hurt your eyes.” His thumb traces a half circle against her hand, earnest in his belief of her. ”And you—Doubletake—you’re impossible to look away from. That’s why all heads turn right back towards you.”
It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor
It's just your shadow on the floor
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
