marked me like a bloodstain
Jack would always be so much larger than just a boot in the door to Flora. He was a storm that had passed through her life again and again, a presence that filled every corner even in absence, too loud to be silenced and too familiar to forget. He had said, during their last conversation, that if love were all it took, they’d be together, and it was only the everything else that made it so hard. It wasn’t so different with Kaisel, really, whose love had arrived in moments tucked between shadows, hidden from the sun. Maybe that was the shape of love she was meant for—not the kind that flourished in daylight, but the kind that bloomed in secret, behind doors half-shut and eyes that only met when no one else could see. Maybe she was simply the sort of girl who could only be loved in hiding.
When Kai shifts to meet her eyes, she matches the movement, her gaze finding his for the briefest moment before slipping away again. She turns her focus instead to the low table nearby, where Hadama’s letter rests. "The exchange is happening in two days. And then they’ll be gone." Though the words should carry pride or even relief, they feel strangely empty in her mouth, as though victory had arrived wrapped in too much silence to be celebrated. There is no parade for success born out of recklessness. No fanfare for scars which could have been avoided.
Kai draws her gaze again with the gentlest touch, and though her eyes lift in answer, she cannot hold him there for long. The tenderness in his expression is far too much, and the warmth of his thumb tracing over her cheek feels like it could melt every defence she’s built just to keep him safe. His promises unfold between them—of sails removed and skies remade, of winds stolen and paths rerouted—but they only remind her how quickly she would give everything in return, how deeply she would destroy herself just to keep him from breaking under the weight of what she brings.
"That’s the problem with belonging to people," she murmurs, and the words slide into the water between them like driftwood loosened from the wreckage of something once whole. "There’s no one I haven’t hurt." She keeps her eyes down as the litany unfolds, as the ache begins to crack open in her voice no matter how tightly she tries to hold it closed. "Hadama hasn’t spoken to Sohalia just because I asked her to send a letter, and he was furious with me for ages. And Koa, gods, loving me seems to have made his life worse and even now that he's trying with Sohalia it feels like I've made it impossible."
Flora's fingers tighten, not around Kai's, but in the folds of her dress in her lap as she pulls her hand away enough to fold inward again, shoulders curling forward as her gaze drops to the gentle ripples below. The tears do not fall, but they press against her throat and her eyes like a tide that refuses to recede. The pressure grounds her for a moment, just long enough to raise her eyes and meet his with something raw and hollowed. "You nearly died because of Jack," she says softly, her voice a breath away from breaking. "And Jack did die. Because of me."
Even now, the words feel heavy in her mouth, too jagged to swallow, too sharp to leave unspoken. They hang there for only a moment before the next truth falls—quieter than the rest, but deeper somehow, like something lost beneath all the rest of it. "And my twin. He died because of me too." Enzo had been the first victim of her recklessness all those years ago, because she'd wanted adventure and freedom and Enzo had paid the price for it.
When Kai shifts to meet her eyes, she matches the movement, her gaze finding his for the briefest moment before slipping away again. She turns her focus instead to the low table nearby, where Hadama’s letter rests. "The exchange is happening in two days. And then they’ll be gone." Though the words should carry pride or even relief, they feel strangely empty in her mouth, as though victory had arrived wrapped in too much silence to be celebrated. There is no parade for success born out of recklessness. No fanfare for scars which could have been avoided.
Kai draws her gaze again with the gentlest touch, and though her eyes lift in answer, she cannot hold him there for long. The tenderness in his expression is far too much, and the warmth of his thumb tracing over her cheek feels like it could melt every defence she’s built just to keep him safe. His promises unfold between them—of sails removed and skies remade, of winds stolen and paths rerouted—but they only remind her how quickly she would give everything in return, how deeply she would destroy herself just to keep him from breaking under the weight of what she brings.
"That’s the problem with belonging to people," she murmurs, and the words slide into the water between them like driftwood loosened from the wreckage of something once whole. "There’s no one I haven’t hurt." She keeps her eyes down as the litany unfolds, as the ache begins to crack open in her voice no matter how tightly she tries to hold it closed. "Hadama hasn’t spoken to Sohalia just because I asked her to send a letter, and he was furious with me for ages. And Koa, gods, loving me seems to have made his life worse and even now that he's trying with Sohalia it feels like I've made it impossible."
Flora's fingers tighten, not around Kai's, but in the folds of her dress in her lap as she pulls her hand away enough to fold inward again, shoulders curling forward as her gaze drops to the gentle ripples below. The tears do not fall, but they press against her throat and her eyes like a tide that refuses to recede. The pressure grounds her for a moment, just long enough to raise her eyes and meet his with something raw and hollowed. "You nearly died because of Jack," she says softly, her voice a breath away from breaking. "And Jack did die. Because of me."
Even now, the words feel heavy in her mouth, too jagged to swallow, too sharp to leave unspoken. They hang there for only a moment before the next truth falls—quieter than the rest, but deeper somehow, like something lost beneath all the rest of it. "And my twin. He died because of me too." Enzo had been the first victim of her recklessness all those years ago, because she'd wanted adventure and freedom and Enzo had paid the price for it.
