lay your soul onto mine
Satisfied that Kaisel can’t sass her mid-scorchball, Flora takes a breath and plants her feet like she’s about to address a crowd. Which, frankly, isn’t far off—one or two passersby have already begun giving them a wide berth, especially now that her earrings are starting to swing with the force of her indignation.
"What were you thinking???" she demands, arms flaring out before immediately slapping back to her hips. "Actually—no. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t even matter what you were thinking, because you weren’t."
The words are sharp, flung like confetti from a hurricane. "Jack Barclay is one of the most notorious people in Torchline—not because of his pretty blue eyes—but because he does shit. Like. That!" Her voice pitches upward, hands gesturing wildly as her braid whips behind her like punctuation. "And!" she barrels on, chin lifting, volume rising, "He is, in case you weren't aware, a literal walking lightning storm when he wants to be! And also! Do you know what I gave him? For birthdays? For anniversaries? For every ‘please, please, please love me’ moment?!"
A pause, only for breath. Her cheeks are flushed, sea-glass eyes burning as she leans in.
"Mageglass." The word drops like an anchor. "Do you know what mageglass does, Kaisel? Especially that much? No, don’t answer that, because clearly you don’t." She doesn’t wait. "That much mageglass gives him the ability to send most people straight to Mort’s halls with a flick of his fingers. Snap. Gone. The only reason you're still here, wearing that ugly-ass shirt and breathing my air, is because Jack chose not to kill you." Presumably for Flora's sake, hence why the captain had gotten a thank-you and Kaisel was getting a dressing down.
Her glare could peel paint. Neck tense, arms locked at her sides, she looks like she’s about to throw something or burst into tears—or both.
But then her fury caves in on itself as she surges forward, arms wrapping around him with a ragged breath. "Gods, Kai," she mutters, voice muffled in his chest, "You dummb stupid dumb idiot, I was so fucking worried."
"What were you thinking???" she demands, arms flaring out before immediately slapping back to her hips. "Actually—no. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t even matter what you were thinking, because you weren’t."
The words are sharp, flung like confetti from a hurricane. "Jack Barclay is one of the most notorious people in Torchline—not because of his pretty blue eyes—but because he does shit. Like. That!" Her voice pitches upward, hands gesturing wildly as her braid whips behind her like punctuation. "And!" she barrels on, chin lifting, volume rising, "He is, in case you weren't aware, a literal walking lightning storm when he wants to be! And also! Do you know what I gave him? For birthdays? For anniversaries? For every ‘please, please, please love me’ moment?!"
A pause, only for breath. Her cheeks are flushed, sea-glass eyes burning as she leans in.
"Mageglass." The word drops like an anchor. "Do you know what mageglass does, Kaisel? Especially that much? No, don’t answer that, because clearly you don’t." She doesn’t wait. "That much mageglass gives him the ability to send most people straight to Mort’s halls with a flick of his fingers. Snap. Gone. The only reason you're still here, wearing that ugly-ass shirt and breathing my air, is because Jack chose not to kill you." Presumably for Flora's sake, hence why the captain had gotten a thank-you and Kaisel was getting a dressing down.
Her glare could peel paint. Neck tense, arms locked at her sides, she looks like she’s about to throw something or burst into tears—or both.
But then her fury caves in on itself as she surges forward, arms wrapping around him with a ragged breath. "Gods, Kai," she mutters, voice muffled in his chest, "You dummb stupid dumb idiot, I was so fucking worried."
