lay your soul onto mine
Flora startles as Kaisel slumps into her, half-collapsing with all the grace of a sun-dazed tuna onto her shoulder. Her arms tighten around him instinctively before she realizes—wait. Wait. Is he actually choking?
"Oh my gods, Kaisel—" she gasps, trying to keep him upright while simultaneously avoiding the increasingly vibrant stream of drool that’s beginning to decorate his chin (and her dress). She thumps him on the back, hard, grimacing as he coughs and sputters and ultimately crumples to the deck in a mess of tears and snot and wounded masculinity.
At least he’s breathing. Loudly. Wetly. And in that distinct tone of someone who deserved it.
She crouches beside him with a dramatic sigh, arms crossed and nose wrinkled as if the sight of him alone is an affront to her senses, then, with a dry, exasperated roll of her eyes, she lifts her brows and spreads her hands. "Yes, dummy. Jack. Is. Her. Dad. Also Vesper and Nova’s. And there's a fourth one, too."
"Oh my gods, Kaisel—" she gasps, trying to keep him upright while simultaneously avoiding the increasingly vibrant stream of drool that’s beginning to decorate his chin (and her dress). She thumps him on the back, hard, grimacing as he coughs and sputters and ultimately crumples to the deck in a mess of tears and snot and wounded masculinity.
At least he’s breathing. Loudly. Wetly. And in that distinct tone of someone who deserved it.
She crouches beside him with a dramatic sigh, arms crossed and nose wrinkled as if the sight of him alone is an affront to her senses, then, with a dry, exasperated roll of her eyes, she lifts her brows and spreads her hands. "Yes, dummy. Jack. Is. Her. Dad. Also Vesper and Nova’s. And there's a fourth one, too."
