Enzo
Enzo would - likely will - stay here on this beach until the sunlight forces him back into Mort’s arms just to be by her side a moment longer, keep that ache and cold further away from her for precious minutes. That she can, and surely will knowing his sister, bring him back is a privilege he has no business complaining over. Still he longs to never need to see the changes in her face between seasons he didn’t experience alongside her. And it will hurt, as it does now, to see the things that moved on without him - their house included. But it’s a hurt he’ll weather every day if he can only come back to her for good.
“Flora!” He mimics back at her on breathy, high-pitched tones that crack around his grinning teeth. “Our house has all those memories, I’ll always remember it and love it. But we made that place special because we were in it - and we’ll do the same for the new place.” Anywhere they go and anything they do will inherently be perfect by nature of their shared lives.
A shared life that feels so close within reach now, and it fills Enzo’s eyes with gleaming light as his smile stretches wider with every moment he can feel her heartbeat skipping faster under their intertwined fingers against her chest. “Not just a balcony, a springboard! We have a healing fountain, don’t wuss out!” They’ll just post up a sign waiving liability or something, the boring details can come later.
She doesn’t let him pull too far away, and his grin melts into a tiny, contemplative smile. “You might already have built more than you think by the time I’m back, I’m just planning ahead.” The passage of time is meaningless in Mort’s halls, but he’s seen how much can happen between visits through the history of Flora’s life. “And the answer is shell pink. Like a conch shell - not blue or teal like anyone else will tell you.” His face twists into a dismissive, disgusted grimace. Pink is far superior to blue and he’ll hear nothing more about it.
The brightness dims but it will never fully dull. Enzo leans to press his forehead to hers, tip of his nose idly swaying against hers. “I believe in you, sis. And if it’s not done by time you bring me back then we’ll build it together - no boys allowed until opening day.” His laugh washes warm breath across both of their cheeks with how close he’s pressed. “Except family I guess. We have way too many guys in the family, it’s a crying shame.”
“Flora!” He mimics back at her on breathy, high-pitched tones that crack around his grinning teeth. “Our house has all those memories, I’ll always remember it and love it. But we made that place special because we were in it - and we’ll do the same for the new place.” Anywhere they go and anything they do will inherently be perfect by nature of their shared lives.
A shared life that feels so close within reach now, and it fills Enzo’s eyes with gleaming light as his smile stretches wider with every moment he can feel her heartbeat skipping faster under their intertwined fingers against her chest. “Not just a balcony, a springboard! We have a healing fountain, don’t wuss out!” They’ll just post up a sign waiving liability or something, the boring details can come later.
She doesn’t let him pull too far away, and his grin melts into a tiny, contemplative smile. “You might already have built more than you think by the time I’m back, I’m just planning ahead.” The passage of time is meaningless in Mort’s halls, but he’s seen how much can happen between visits through the history of Flora’s life. “And the answer is shell pink. Like a conch shell - not blue or teal like anyone else will tell you.” His face twists into a dismissive, disgusted grimace. Pink is far superior to blue and he’ll hear nothing more about it.
The brightness dims but it will never fully dull. Enzo leans to press his forehead to hers, tip of his nose idly swaying against hers. “I believe in you, sis. And if it’s not done by time you bring me back then we’ll build it together - no boys allowed until opening day.” His laugh washes warm breath across both of their cheeks with how close he’s pressed. “Except family I guess. We have way too many guys in the family, it’s a crying shame.”
whether death or distance comes between
there comes a time when everybody leaves
there comes a time when everybody leaves
