Whether I'm gonna curse you out or
Take you back to my house
Take you back to my house
There’s a dull thunk against the hull, followed by the scraping sound of stubborn effort and an exaggerated exhale. From inside the Sugar Tide, Flora’s brow lifts. She sets down the gold-edged book she’s been reading—upside down, if she’s honest, mostly admiring the illustrations—and pads barefoot toward the sound.
By the time Caly heaves the crate up with a final, theatrical wheeze, invisible fingers are already helping guide it the rest of the way. A whisper curls around the docked air, breezy and conspiratorial. "Caly??" Followed by laughter. "Come up!"
The top hatch creaks open with a familiar groan, and a moment later the door down into the houseboat’s lush, shadow-cooled interior swings wide of its own accord. Flora twists her invisibility ring, the illusion peeling off like gauze from wet skin as Flora steps into view, one hip braced against the threshold, her curls pulled up in a knot and the rest of her wrapped in a red sundress that might have been a flag if it weren’t so soft.
She beams. "There are people for that kind of labour, you know." One brow lifts with amused exasperation, though she doesn’t stop grinning. Turning, she lets her fingers curl around the banister, already starting to lead them down into the belly of the Sugar Tide. "Come on. Want a drink? Something cold? Possibly fizzy and definitely spiked?"
By the time Caly heaves the crate up with a final, theatrical wheeze, invisible fingers are already helping guide it the rest of the way. A whisper curls around the docked air, breezy and conspiratorial. "Caly??" Followed by laughter. "Come up!"
The top hatch creaks open with a familiar groan, and a moment later the door down into the houseboat’s lush, shadow-cooled interior swings wide of its own accord. Flora twists her invisibility ring, the illusion peeling off like gauze from wet skin as Flora steps into view, one hip braced against the threshold, her curls pulled up in a knot and the rest of her wrapped in a red sundress that might have been a flag if it weren’t so soft.
She beams. "There are people for that kind of labour, you know." One brow lifts with amused exasperation, though she doesn’t stop grinning. Turning, she lets her fingers curl around the banister, already starting to lead them down into the belly of the Sugar Tide. "Come on. Want a drink? Something cold? Possibly fizzy and definitely spiked?"
flora
I haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
But I'm gonna get you back
