lay your soul onto mine
Flora recoils like she’s been cursed, hip slamming into Kai’s with mock outrage and scandalized flair. "You would know all about dick breath, wouldn’t you?" she accuses with a dramatic toss of her curls, nose wrinkling as if his very presence is now offensive.
Still, she’s laughing as he stumbles back into place beside her, and when he calls garden gnomes charming she just rolls her eyes. "Never said you weren’t charming," she mutters. "But they’re also short and dress like their laundry exploded on them, soooo., if the weird garden gnome shoe fits.." Her tone is flippant, but the warmth in her chest only grows as his arm finds her shoulders and hers, without thinking, loops snugly around his waist.
She listens to his candle description with a slow grin stretching across her face. "Mismatched Socks," she repeats, letting it roll around like a fine wine. "Gods, yeah. Then again there are times mismatched socks are like, a choice, y'know? So it makes sense that the store at least stocks that scent."
When it’s her turn, she scrunches her nose, tilting her head side to side as if weighing invisible options. "I," she begins, already clearly delighted with herself, "would probably be one of those bougie candles that’s like, so pretty and comes in a ceramic seashell or something and costs way too much, so you never light it. You just keep it on a shelf and go ‘ugh, I love that one’ and never commit. Big waste of potential. But aesthetic."
His follow-up has her laughing as they stroll, the question flaring behind her eyes like a firework. "Okay, okay, that’s good. Um—" She taps her lips. "I think...not having to breathe would be cool. Like, imagine all the diving I could do? OR," she perks, eyes glinting, "if I didn’t have to blink, I could glare at you forever and win every staring contest. I’d be terrifying."
She sighs, melodramatic. "But apparently I need to work on my breath if I ever want to get laid again, so I guess I’ll go with oral health." Really if she didn't have to consider dick breath, she'd have gone with shaving her legs. Alas. They take a few more steps, and she turns to him with a grin that practically gleams. "Okay, your turn. If you had to choose one meal that magically appeared in front of you for lunch every single day for the rest of your life—no prep, no cost, but you can’t change it—what are you eating forever?" And if he says vag, he will be getting a kick to the balls.
Still, she’s laughing as he stumbles back into place beside her, and when he calls garden gnomes charming she just rolls her eyes. "Never said you weren’t charming," she mutters. "But they’re also short and dress like their laundry exploded on them, soooo., if the weird garden gnome shoe fits.." Her tone is flippant, but the warmth in her chest only grows as his arm finds her shoulders and hers, without thinking, loops snugly around his waist.
She listens to his candle description with a slow grin stretching across her face. "Mismatched Socks," she repeats, letting it roll around like a fine wine. "Gods, yeah. Then again there are times mismatched socks are like, a choice, y'know? So it makes sense that the store at least stocks that scent."
When it’s her turn, she scrunches her nose, tilting her head side to side as if weighing invisible options. "I," she begins, already clearly delighted with herself, "would probably be one of those bougie candles that’s like, so pretty and comes in a ceramic seashell or something and costs way too much, so you never light it. You just keep it on a shelf and go ‘ugh, I love that one’ and never commit. Big waste of potential. But aesthetic."
His follow-up has her laughing as they stroll, the question flaring behind her eyes like a firework. "Okay, okay, that’s good. Um—" She taps her lips. "I think...not having to breathe would be cool. Like, imagine all the diving I could do? OR," she perks, eyes glinting, "if I didn’t have to blink, I could glare at you forever and win every staring contest. I’d be terrifying."
She sighs, melodramatic. "But apparently I need to work on my breath if I ever want to get laid again, so I guess I’ll go with oral health." Really if she didn't have to consider dick breath, she'd have gone with shaving her legs. Alas. They take a few more steps, and she turns to him with a grin that practically gleams. "Okay, your turn. If you had to choose one meal that magically appeared in front of you for lunch every single day for the rest of your life—no prep, no cost, but you can’t change it—what are you eating forever?" And if he says vag, he will be getting a kick to the balls.
