flora
Flora huffs a soft laugh, the sound small but genuine, her smile tilting at one corner as she leans a little more into Sohalia’s shoulder. "Okay okay," she concedes, the sparkle in her gaze shining for just a moment before she inhales and considers. "I mean, that’s what the letter said," she murmurs, tone light but edged with lingering disbelief. "Apparently the demigods are all going to go and stand guard or look intimidating or do whatever it is they do during very serious magical negotiations with hostile alien attackers."
She lifts one hand, palm up, like she might mime out the details but can’t quite summon the effort. "But...yeah. I guess so." Her brows rise slightly, her expression caught between hope and hesitance, as if saying it aloud might make it less real—or more so. She nudges Soh’s arm with her own, the movement gentle but intentional, and her voice lowers to a whisper as if the thought might vanish if spoken too loud.
"It might actually all be over." And there’s something in her eyes then, something wide and unsure, as if peace itself is harder to believe in than war. "Crazy, right?"
She lifts one hand, palm up, like she might mime out the details but can’t quite summon the effort. "But...yeah. I guess so." Her brows rise slightly, her expression caught between hope and hesitance, as if saying it aloud might make it less real—or more so. She nudges Soh’s arm with her own, the movement gentle but intentional, and her voice lowers to a whisper as if the thought might vanish if spoken too loud.
"It might actually all be over." And there’s something in her eyes then, something wide and unsure, as if peace itself is harder to believe in than war. "Crazy, right?"
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
