we show off our different scarlet letters
Over the roar of the music she tips her head towards Theea, her smile bright as starlight and her voice carrying just enough to be heard. "If anyone grabs you," she shouts cheerfully, but with a glint of genuine protectiveness in her eyes, "just tell me, and I'll stab them with my shoe!"
Flora tosses her curls back, a shimmer of sweat already catching the glow from the lights overhead. Despite the chaos brewing inside—hot and sharp, jealousy and hurt tangling into a tight knot behind her ribs—she keeps dancing, refusing to let a single hint of tension leak into her expression or body. Instead, she channels it into movement, hips swaying and arms reaching overhead, laughing as she twirlsTheea in playful circles.
But every heartbeat feels a little jagged, like pieces of broken sea glass lodged inside her chest. It’s not that she isn’t happy for Soh, because gods, she is—had already said it and meant it, genuinely, completely. But it was one thing to say she’d be okay, and another to watch Sohalia lick salt fromKoa 's collarbone, her best friend’s tongue tracing skin Flora still remembered the exact warmth and taste of. It’s visceral, sudden, impossible to look away from. Her throat aches, her heart hammers, and she hates how stupidly unprepared she is for it given she'd just been cheering her on.
Kaisel doesn’t make it easier. Flora glances toward him, catching sight of the way his head dips low to Caly, his lips against hers so bold and certain it’s almost dizzying. And that, too, is something tangled and complicated and forbidden in ways Flora never asked for. She doesn't know if she's jealous or angry or just exhausted by the mess of it all, but the ache is real enough to make her teeth press hard against the inside of her cheek.
She knows it's hypocritical—gods, she knows—when she herself had just been tangled between Asta and Danta mere minutes ago, but it feels so utterly different. With them it had been just fun, just heat, no strings attached, no lingering softness to haunt her tomorrow. She'd never catch Asta's or Danta’s eyes across the crowded bar and feel her breath hitch, her heart stumble, the moment crystallizing into something she'd turn over again and again. Not like with K—
—ahem, but she'd said no heartbreak.
The music swells, and Flora throws herself into it harder, pulling Theea closer, her laughter as bright and fierce as she can manage. She wasn't going to break the only rule she'd stipulated for that evening, even if it means dancing like nothing else exists, not Koa’s shirtless chest, not Kaisel’s stupid smirk, not Sohalia’s sweetly daring smile as she finally went for the boy she loved.
Just the beat, just the lights, just Theea’s joyful, glitter-streaked face, and the fierce determination to not let anything else ruin tonight. "I'm so glad you're here," she whispers, leaning in close but still having to shout the words over the roar of the music.
Flora tosses her curls back, a shimmer of sweat already catching the glow from the lights overhead. Despite the chaos brewing inside—hot and sharp, jealousy and hurt tangling into a tight knot behind her ribs—she keeps dancing, refusing to let a single hint of tension leak into her expression or body. Instead, she channels it into movement, hips swaying and arms reaching overhead, laughing as she twirls
But every heartbeat feels a little jagged, like pieces of broken sea glass lodged inside her chest. It’s not that she isn’t happy for Soh, because gods, she is—had already said it and meant it, genuinely, completely. But it was one thing to say she’d be okay, and another to watch Sohalia lick salt from
Kaisel doesn’t make it easier. Flora glances toward him, catching sight of the way his head dips low to Caly, his lips against hers so bold and certain it’s almost dizzying. And that, too, is something tangled and complicated and forbidden in ways Flora never asked for. She doesn't know if she's jealous or angry or just exhausted by the mess of it all, but the ache is real enough to make her teeth press hard against the inside of her cheek.
She knows it's hypocritical—gods, she knows—when she herself had just been tangled between Asta and Danta mere minutes ago, but it feels so utterly different. With them it had been just fun, just heat, no strings attached, no lingering softness to haunt her tomorrow. She'd never catch Asta's or Danta’s eyes across the crowded bar and feel her breath hitch, her heart stumble, the moment crystallizing into something she'd turn over again and again. Not like with K—
—ahem, but she'd said no heartbreak.
The music swells, and Flora throws herself into it harder, pulling Theea closer, her laughter as bright and fierce as she can manage. She wasn't going to break the only rule she'd stipulated for that evening, even if it means dancing like nothing else exists, not Koa’s shirtless chest, not Kaisel’s stupid smirk, not Sohalia’s sweetly daring smile as she finally went for the boy she loved.
Just the beat, just the lights, just Theea’s joyful, glitter-streaked face, and the fierce determination to not let anything else ruin tonight. "I'm so glad you're here," she whispers, leaning in close but still having to shout the words over the roar of the music.
