taking more from everything that ends

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

She is abruptly and delightfully shy in response. It's a rare sight for the Crow of Torchline, who gilds herself in confidence and gold in equal measure, to be bashful. In fact, Kaisel isn't certain if it's blush or the sunburn he warned her about. He grips his glass with a bemused smile, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly, as if it might help him decode her. He hadn't expected this response.

Then it comes back—that plea from earlier.

There's something sad now in the shake of her head. The gleam in her eyes is dull, stripped of all the wicked edge he's so accustomed to. Even the tumble of her seaswept hair feels smaller, compressed by a weight she insists on carrying. He stills, resisting the urge to keep slipping the compliments out until she forces him to stop, or finally accepts them. One look at her though, and he realizes he can't match a broken heart's strength. He's been trying to iron out the wrinkles that got folded into her heart, but he's liable to scorch a hole instead. Accepting he can’t change it leaves a new crease in his own chest.

He leans against a hand propped up on the table, watching the sweat of the drink drip down. "You ever wish on a star, Flo-so?"

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor