flora
Flora’s grin sharpens like a knife made of pure mischief. "Yep," she says sweetly, popping the p like a cherry. "I am calling you fat. And you know what that means? You need more morning runs with me." Her tone is all saccharine delight, but the look she gives him over the rim of her glass is absolutely the smug gleam of a woman plotting his aerobic demise. "And before you argue, you already said I needed someone to torture endlessly, and that's you babe." As for flying rules and regulations, the queen just shrugs. "If there are too many people on the Sugar Tide, I’m pretty sure she'd just sink down like a weighted balloon. All dramatic and tragic—cue the tiny violins." She smirks, clearly unbothered by the mental image. "Or if someone tried to stow away while I was sailing? It just wouldn’t fly. Like, literally."
But then, because toeing the line is a deeply held Flora-core value, she doesn’t stop there. "But considering how well you keep it together with just me onboard," she adds innocently, dragging her gaze slow and sultry across his face, "maybe cool your jets before you start fantasizing about adding a third to the manifest." Her smile is all feline smugness, pure wicked implication.
At the mention of white noisewhy's it always gotta be white, she just shrugs, gaze drifting toward the cabin wall like maybe her mind has already wandered a little. "Keeping busy works too," she murmurs. "Though now that I’m not managing the bar anymore..." She trails off with a lazy wave of her free hand, letting the implication hang. Time used to be a luxury; now it’s a curse with nowhere to go and no one to fill it.
When he scoffs about sprinkles on salads, she snorts. "Okay, true, but like, no one wants to eat salads anyway, that’s not the sprinkles’ fault." She tips her head at him. "And honestly? If you chop bacon up small enough, it’s basically sprinkles. And those would absolutely be delish on a burger."
Kai flinching from her foot earns a triumphant little nod from Flora. She lounges back further, angling her leg so that it’s comfortably draped across his lap now, the other crossing neatly over it at the ankle. "I'm sure you feel the same way about your bros," she says breezily, voice perfectly innocent. "Sometimes you just gotta not risk the vibe, y'know?" Even if that vibe occasionally strayed into dangerous territory, like featherlight touches and unspeakable thoughts. She wasn't the only barrier here to fucking around and finding out, after all.
"Also, when did I ever say I was good at sitting still?" she huffs, rolling her eyes dramatically before glancing pointedly at the polish. "And if you get that anywhere on my skin, I’m leaving the most scathing reviews. ‘One star. Tech wouldn't stop talking about sprinkles. Couldn't spell the word cuticle much less find them. Red looked more like a crime scene than a manicure.’"
But then, because toeing the line is a deeply held Flora-core value, she doesn’t stop there. "But considering how well you keep it together with just me onboard," she adds innocently, dragging her gaze slow and sultry across his face, "maybe cool your jets before you start fantasizing about adding a third to the manifest." Her smile is all feline smugness, pure wicked implication.
At the mention of white noise
When he scoffs about sprinkles on salads, she snorts. "Okay, true, but like, no one wants to eat salads anyway, that’s not the sprinkles’ fault." She tips her head at him. "And honestly? If you chop bacon up small enough, it’s basically sprinkles. And those would absolutely be delish on a burger."
Kai flinching from her foot earns a triumphant little nod from Flora. She lounges back further, angling her leg so that it’s comfortably draped across his lap now, the other crossing neatly over it at the ankle. "I'm sure you feel the same way about your bros," she says breezily, voice perfectly innocent. "Sometimes you just gotta not risk the vibe, y'know?" Even if that vibe occasionally strayed into dangerous territory, like featherlight touches and unspeakable thoughts. She wasn't the only barrier here to fucking around and finding out, after all.
"Also, when did I ever say I was good at sitting still?" she huffs, rolling her eyes dramatically before glancing pointedly at the polish. "And if you get that anywhere on my skin, I’m leaving the most scathing reviews. ‘One star. Tech wouldn't stop talking about sprinkles. Couldn't spell the word cuticle much less find them. Red looked more like a crime scene than a manicure.’"
I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights
I wanna kill the lights
