marked me like a bloodstain
Flora falls silent, words smothered beneath the weight of Kaisel’s palm and the rare, sharp edge in his voice. He never yells—never at her—and the sheer force of it stills her like a bird caught mid-flight, confusion and heat blooming behind her ribs in a tangled mess of guilt and something dangerously close to hope. When he mentions their plan to move in together, her eyes shift, softening with a tenderness that’s impossible to hide. Of course she remembers. The way the idea had spilled between them like sunlight through an open window, easy and ridiculous and perfect. The image of him in her kitchen, tripping over Spice. His clothes in her drawers or in the sink. The sound of his laughter in her bed. Gods, the idea of it lives in her even now, curled up somewhere stupid and warm.
And then, just as she’s gathering the pieces of her composure, he says he’d do it again.
Her heart lurches, stomach flipping so fast it might as well be trying to flee her body. All those feelings she’s tried to bury bubble up so abruptly she can’t breathe past them. So instead she leans forward and presses her tongue—quick, impish, and absurdly Flora—between the gaps of his fingers, hoping the slippery sensation alone will break the spell long enough for him to pull his hand away.
When he does, her breath catches sharp in her throat, cheeks flushed and pulse hammering in her ears, before her eyes immediately drop away from his. It had been easy—safe to hold his gaze with his hand against her mouth—but now there's far too little space between them for her to trust herself not to complicate things further. Eyes lowered to her lap, voice almost inaudible, she whispers, "I would too." And that—gods, that’s the problem.
Her fingers curl in the fabric of her dress, knuckles whitening as she swallows thickly. "But we can’t, Kai." The words come out like glass wrapped in velvet, each shard in the shape of Koa's name, or Jack's. "That’s why I wanted to take the blame. Because you could still have something real with her." Her throat tightens, and still she doesn’t lift her gaze. "Even if it wasn’t just my fault...I was the one who started it, even though I knew you liked her. I knew you were planning something with her and I—I did it anyway. So if it has to fall on someone..." She breathes out slow, the corners of her mouth twitching like she’s trying to hold back a wave. "Let it be me."
And then, just as she’s gathering the pieces of her composure, he says he’d do it again.
Her heart lurches, stomach flipping so fast it might as well be trying to flee her body. All those feelings she’s tried to bury bubble up so abruptly she can’t breathe past them. So instead she leans forward and presses her tongue—quick, impish, and absurdly Flora—between the gaps of his fingers, hoping the slippery sensation alone will break the spell long enough for him to pull his hand away.
When he does, her breath catches sharp in her throat, cheeks flushed and pulse hammering in her ears, before her eyes immediately drop away from his. It had been easy—safe to hold his gaze with his hand against her mouth—but now there's far too little space between them for her to trust herself not to complicate things further. Eyes lowered to her lap, voice almost inaudible, she whispers, "I would too." And that—gods, that’s the problem.
Her fingers curl in the fabric of her dress, knuckles whitening as she swallows thickly. "But we can’t, Kai." The words come out like glass wrapped in velvet, each shard in the shape of Koa's name, or Jack's. "That’s why I wanted to take the blame. Because you could still have something real with her." Her throat tightens, and still she doesn’t lift her gaze. "Even if it wasn’t just my fault...I was the one who started it, even though I knew you liked her. I knew you were planning something with her and I—I did it anyway. So if it has to fall on someone..." She breathes out slow, the corners of her mouth twitching like she’s trying to hold back a wave. "Let it be me."
