flora
Flora snorted softly, eyes flicking up at him as he told his story between the cadence of their jabs. It was simple, direct, and the kind of honest that people rarely offered her anymore—not since she became someone with a crown on her head and a hundred expectations stitched into her skin. "Sounds like your instructor was kind of an asshole," she puffed, breath catching as she snapped a jab toward his shoulder, "but I guess it's lucky for me, you learned the hard way, huh?"
There was a flicker of something in her expression then, not quite gratitude—Flora was rarely that vulnerable aloud—but something warm. A kind of quiet, cautious appreciation, tucked behind the sharp glint of her eyes.
As for being underestimated? She blew an errant strand of hair from her face with an exaggerated huff, letting the corner of her mouth curl into something smug. "People always think it’s the blonde curls and my choice in outfits," she said, twisting her stance to swing another punch. "But I’m not called The Doubletake because of my looks. At least not anymore."
And maybe it was the heat, or the beat of adrenaline still in her veins, or maybe it was just Liam—steady and solid and clearly capable of holding space—but Flora threw her next punch with too much force. Her balance tipped forward, momentum stealing her grace, and her foot slipped in the sand just enough to ruin her recovery. With a startled laugh—half curse, half breathless wheeze—she tumbled straight into Liam’s chest, her gloved hands catching weakly at his arms to stop from falling further.
There was a flicker of something in her expression then, not quite gratitude—Flora was rarely that vulnerable aloud—but something warm. A kind of quiet, cautious appreciation, tucked behind the sharp glint of her eyes.
As for being underestimated? She blew an errant strand of hair from her face with an exaggerated huff, letting the corner of her mouth curl into something smug. "People always think it’s the blonde curls and my choice in outfits," she said, twisting her stance to swing another punch. "But I’m not called The Doubletake because of my looks. At least not anymore."
And maybe it was the heat, or the beat of adrenaline still in her veins, or maybe it was just Liam—steady and solid and clearly capable of holding space—but Flora threw her next punch with too much force. Her balance tipped forward, momentum stealing her grace, and her foot slipped in the sand just enough to ruin her recovery. With a startled laugh—half curse, half breathless wheeze—she tumbled straight into Liam’s chest, her gloved hands catching weakly at his arms to stop from falling further.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
