Kaisel
One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave
One foot in the grave
He glances at the frosted drink in appreciation, "thanks Spice!" he calls out as she drifts by like an icy bomber, the edges of her breath curling against his skin with a refreshing coolness. He glances over his elbow as Flora flips next to him, stubborn as ever. "Bruh," he says with a fluttering eye roll. "You gotta take the sun more seriously Flo-vo, otherwise you actually will burn to a crisp, and although I love you, I will not attend to your potato chip body. I will however, say I told you so every chance I get."
With a groan he hoists himself onto his forearms and crawls/wiggles towards the abandoned bottle, too lazy to stand up once he made it down to the deck's level, although arguably this requires way more effort to accomplish. Careful not to flop around too close to the glasses, he reaches with a grunt for the bottle, fingertips brushing the edge tauntingly. "Dunno," he calls over his side to her, voice thin with the strain of reaching. "As long as it takes." One finger manages to press down on the edge, at risk of tilting and flipping it away from him as much as pulling it towards him. "C'mooooon" he begs under his breath, until he finally manages to slide it towards him. Relieved, he relaxes, flopping fully onto the wood, just his toes by the towel still.
He tucks it between his elbow and side as he begins to wriggle in reverse—a much less graceful maneuver that requires him to duck glances under his arm to make sure he doesn't kick the glasses or end up throwing it back on Flora's head.
With a groan he hoists himself onto his forearms and crawls/wiggles towards the abandoned bottle, too lazy to stand up once he made it down to the deck's level, although arguably this requires way more effort to accomplish. Careful not to flop around too close to the glasses, he reaches with a grunt for the bottle, fingertips brushing the edge tauntingly. "Dunno," he calls over his side to her, voice thin with the strain of reaching. "As long as it takes." One finger manages to press down on the edge, at risk of tilting and flipping it away from him as much as pulling it towards him. "C'mooooon" he begs under his breath, until he finally manages to slide it towards him. Relieved, he relaxes, flopping fully onto the wood, just his toes by the towel still.
He tucks it between his elbow and side as he begins to wriggle in reverse—a much less graceful maneuver that requires him to duck glances under his arm to make sure he doesn't kick the glasses or end up throwing it back on Flora's head.
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
