flora
Flora's gaze softens as she watches Kaisel set the mismatched glasses down, the tension in his shoulders and the tight edge of his smile making her stomach clench in ways she isn’t prepared for. After seasons of trying—and failing, apparently—to decode Jack’s silences and unspoken needs and wants, she’s become far too good at filling in blanks, too attuned to the smallest shifts in expression, posture, tone. But unlike Jack, Kaisel isn’t able to read her mind. His quiet is just quiet, not a loaded weapon. His pauses don’t come with trapdoors, but they don't come with the ability to listen, either.
She’s trying so hard not to read into it, but the way his smile seems chipped around the edges despite how he soldiers on, has warmth blooming unexpectedly high in her chest; her heart, not the heat she'd been battling lower down. It feels foreign, dangerous even, because this isn’t something she knows how to manage, let alone ignore.
As he delivers his first sweet affirmation, all faux-seriousness and sincerity, Flora flushes despite herself, colour rising high along her cheekbones. She ducks her head briefly, curls tumbling forward, and her fingertips trail along the condensation beading rapidly on the surface of the wineglass. The ice rattles softly, a quiet distraction she's disproportionately grateful for.
She glances up again, meeting Kaisel’s gaze with a soft shake of her head. "Kai," she says softly, almost apologetic, shaking her head as a quiet plea crosses her lips. "No—really. I don't want to do this." Because if she lets him continue, if she has to sit here and listen to someone speak so warmly, so kindly, without an angle or agenda, she doesn’t think she can handle it. She isn’t built for sweetness that comes without strings attached (#abandonment issues).
"It...it just isn't a good idea."
She’s trying so hard not to read into it, but the way his smile seems chipped around the edges despite how he soldiers on, has warmth blooming unexpectedly high in her chest; her heart, not the heat she'd been battling lower down. It feels foreign, dangerous even, because this isn’t something she knows how to manage, let alone ignore.
As he delivers his first sweet affirmation, all faux-seriousness and sincerity, Flora flushes despite herself, colour rising high along her cheekbones. She ducks her head briefly, curls tumbling forward, and her fingertips trail along the condensation beading rapidly on the surface of the wineglass. The ice rattles softly, a quiet distraction she's disproportionately grateful for.
She glances up again, meeting Kaisel’s gaze with a soft shake of her head. "Kai," she says softly, almost apologetic, shaking her head as a quiet plea crosses her lips. "No—really. I don't want to do this." Because if she lets him continue, if she has to sit here and listen to someone speak so warmly, so kindly, without an angle or agenda, she doesn’t think she can handle it. She isn’t built for sweetness that comes without strings attached (#abandonment issues).
"It...it just isn't a good idea."
I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights
I wanna kill the lights
