flora
Flora rolls her eyes with theatrical affection, letting out a scandalised little gasp that melts into laughter. "Ugh, you're a skull," she groans, waving her gold-threaded needle like a wand of mockery. Still, the corners of her mouth twitch upward in unmistakable delight—there’s something deeply satisfying about how precisely he corrects her, like they’re playing different instruments in the same song.
As he leans away from her with that perfectly perturbed expression, she doesn’t chase him—just lifts her chin and arches a brow, supremely unbothered. "Absolutely not," she declares. "You’re not flowering against anything until you’ve had at least one dance with me, even if it is just a bit of gentle swaying."
She tilts her head, curls bouncing slightly, voice going just a touch softer. "Besides...surely Ludo is going to want people to act a bit like it does, I assume, so if anything it's probably safest to not be too demur, or it'll probably target you."
As he leans away from her with that perfectly perturbed expression, she doesn’t chase him—just lifts her chin and arches a brow, supremely unbothered. "Absolutely not," she declares. "You’re not flowering against anything until you’ve had at least one dance with me, even if it is just a bit of gentle swaying."
She tilts her head, curls bouncing slightly, voice going just a touch softer. "Besides...surely Ludo is going to want people to act a bit like it does, I assume, so if anything it's probably safest to not be too demur, or it'll probably target you."
I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland
