flora
He won’t see the brow Flora lifts, but he’ll feel it; soft incredulity curling through the space between them like the scent of salt-sweet orchids in bloom. It’s not suspicion, not quite disbelief either, but something feather-light and tilted sideways, a question that never fully forms.
She doesn’t speak at first, just lets her thoughts flicker toward him, not sharp or direct, but scattered like petals in the wind. Pierce, was...yeah. The name lands like a stone tossed into deep water. I was focused on him. Part of me wanted him to see me— a pause, her mind veering into darker hues, bitter-edged with glittery, furious satisfaction—just so I could see his face when my daggers sliced into him.
A shrug follows, unseen, and the next thought is more subdued, a little frayed at the corners. But yeah. It was probably for the best.
The sound she makes is light, a hum edged with laughter, like wind chimes catching the last gold flicker of the day. Oh yeah? You wanna lend me Bassian, then? she teases, her mental tone all brightness and coastal sass, breezy enough to lift, but she doesn't have the energy to make it linger. Because beneath the sugar, something steadier begins to take root. A quieter worry, not quite fear, but a readiness coiled beneath her ribs.
Now that Remi and Ronin actually attacked Pierce...The thought trails, then steadies, silvering into something more serious. I think I have to stay invisible. At least until the coast’s got that shield. Dahlia’s not gonna let this go—and I’m guessing Pierce isn’t either.
She doesn’t speak at first, just lets her thoughts flicker toward him, not sharp or direct, but scattered like petals in the wind. Pierce, was...yeah. The name lands like a stone tossed into deep water. I was focused on him. Part of me wanted him to see me— a pause, her mind veering into darker hues, bitter-edged with glittery, furious satisfaction—just so I could see his face when my daggers sliced into him.
A shrug follows, unseen, and the next thought is more subdued, a little frayed at the corners. But yeah. It was probably for the best.
The sound she makes is light, a hum edged with laughter, like wind chimes catching the last gold flicker of the day. Oh yeah? You wanna lend me Bassian, then? she teases, her mental tone all brightness and coastal sass, breezy enough to lift, but she doesn't have the energy to make it linger. Because beneath the sugar, something steadier begins to take root. A quieter worry, not quite fear, but a readiness coiled beneath her ribs.
Now that Remi and Ronin actually attacked Pierce...The thought trails, then steadies, silvering into something more serious. I think I have to stay invisible. At least until the coast’s got that shield. Dahlia’s not gonna let this go—and I’m guessing Pierce isn’t either.
Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price
You know that I bought it
You know that I bought it
