and all that we intend is scrawled in sand
The words settle into the air like dew—light, gentle, and devastating. Flora doesn’t move, not right away, and the world around them stills with her. The flutter of leaves above fades to a distant hush, the birdsong stutters and then picks up elsewhere, too far away to break the silence his confession leaves in its wake.
Her breath stutters in her chest, snagged like silk on thorns, and for a moment it’s not Flora the Queen or Flora the friend or even Flora the ex—just Flora, sitting small and stunned with the weight of Koa's words pressing down on her collarbones. The last time he’d said he was in love with her had been right before everything fractured—before they ghosted around each other in Torchline’s streets and Stormbreaks roads, both too full of unspoken things to manage even pleasantries. She hadn’t expected to hear it again, but certainly not now, not like it was an infection that refused to heal.
When she speaks, it’s softer than before. Not dulled, but less defensive, less frantic, her voice drifting out like mist across the glade. "It was like that for me, before.." she begins softly, the words hushed and careful, like stepping barefoot across broken glass. "With you." She lets that hang between them for a moment before breathing in, her voice steadier when she continues. "Even though I made my choice, there was a part of me that never left the Celestine. That version of my life stayed there, frozen in time, playing out in soft moments I didn’t get to keep. Little things. Like what it would’ve felt like to fall asleep beside you. Or what your hand would’ve felt like around my waist when we walked past the bakery in Haulani. Or how you’d look at me when you thought I wasn’t paying attention."
She swallows hard, blinking down at the flower. "That life...it didn’t stop just because I chose a different one. I’d see it out of the corner of my eye, or dream about it. Not vividly, just...fragments. A smile. The press of your shoulder. Laughter that never actually happened." A pause, ragged and quiet. "It felt like I was living two lives. One real and one that was just...laid over top, only visible sometimes." Her hand tightens instinctively around his, needing the warmth of it, the familiarity, the realness
"But...we can’t," she says finally, voice hushed with something tender and tragic. "Not anymore. Sohalia is in love with you, and I—gods, Koa, I love her too much." She breathes in, a sharp, sea-salt thing that scrapes at her lungs, finally lifting her gaze, ocean eyes finding copper, stormy and glistening. This had gone so much farther than it ever had before, when Sohalia was queen and they'd all been flirting with the idea of forevers rather than actually laying them on the line. "I want you to be happy, and if you love her...even a little, you owe it to both of you to try." Her hand doesn’t leave his. If anything, she threads their fingers together tighter, grounding herself in the ache. Because letting go doesn’t always mean pulling away.
Her breath stutters in her chest, snagged like silk on thorns, and for a moment it’s not Flora the Queen or Flora the friend or even Flora the ex—just Flora, sitting small and stunned with the weight of Koa's words pressing down on her collarbones. The last time he’d said he was in love with her had been right before everything fractured—before they ghosted around each other in Torchline’s streets and Stormbreaks roads, both too full of unspoken things to manage even pleasantries. She hadn’t expected to hear it again, but certainly not now, not like it was an infection that refused to heal.
When she speaks, it’s softer than before. Not dulled, but less defensive, less frantic, her voice drifting out like mist across the glade. "It was like that for me, before.." she begins softly, the words hushed and careful, like stepping barefoot across broken glass. "With you." She lets that hang between them for a moment before breathing in, her voice steadier when she continues. "Even though I made my choice, there was a part of me that never left the Celestine. That version of my life stayed there, frozen in time, playing out in soft moments I didn’t get to keep. Little things. Like what it would’ve felt like to fall asleep beside you. Or what your hand would’ve felt like around my waist when we walked past the bakery in Haulani. Or how you’d look at me when you thought I wasn’t paying attention."
She swallows hard, blinking down at the flower. "That life...it didn’t stop just because I chose a different one. I’d see it out of the corner of my eye, or dream about it. Not vividly, just...fragments. A smile. The press of your shoulder. Laughter that never actually happened." A pause, ragged and quiet. "It felt like I was living two lives. One real and one that was just...laid over top, only visible sometimes." Her hand tightens instinctively around his, needing the warmth of it, the familiarity, the realness
"But...we can’t," she says finally, voice hushed with something tender and tragic. "Not anymore. Sohalia is in love with you, and I—gods, Koa, I love her too much." She breathes in, a sharp, sea-salt thing that scrapes at her lungs, finally lifting her gaze, ocean eyes finding copper, stormy and glistening. This had gone so much farther than it ever had before, when Sohalia was queen and they'd all been flirting with the idea of forevers rather than actually laying them on the line. "I want you to be happy, and if you love her...even a little, you owe it to both of you to try." Her hand doesn’t leave his. If anything, she threads their fingers together tighter, grounding herself in the ache. Because letting go doesn’t always mean pulling away.
