you don't know that you're living 'til you're carrying scars
Flora laughs, the sound bright and dramatic enough to make a few gulls wheel overhead in protest. "Babe, please. There won’t just be a secret door—there’s gonna be entire hidden wings. A whole floor you can only get to by flirting with a sentient painting. A bathtub that vanishes if the wrong person tries to use it. Possibly a wine cellar that doubles as a library-slash-portal to my sulking tower." Her grin widens, exaggerated for a moment, before fading softer. "Obviously, you get the key to everything."
But the breeze shifts, and so does Flora. Her hand stays hooked around Soh’s, but her eyes drop to the sand, to the frothy edges of the tide lapping at their feet. For a long moment she just watches it come and go, like maybe if she stares hard enough the sea will cough up an answer. "I…" She swallows. Her voice is smaller now, quieter. "The night we slept together, after I kissed him…he said something about how long he’d dreamt of me like that." Her fingers twist one of her shell bracelets, turning it again and again. "And I thought—I thought he meant us. Not just...sex."
Her laugh this time is brittle, barely there. "I keep going over all the things he said. He told me he’d sail with me anywhere, that he'd steal the wind for me if I needed it. That I didn’t have to be alone. And I believed him." She bites at the inside of her lip, hard enough that it draws colour back to her cheeks, but not clarity to her eyes. "But maybe I just heard what I wanted to. Maybe it was always just talk, and I wanted it to mean more than it did." A pause, then a shaky breath. "So yeah. I want to know everything. Because he’s clearly not gonna tell me, and I’d rather be hurt by the truth than keep making up reasons for why he’s not here."
But the breeze shifts, and so does Flora. Her hand stays hooked around Soh’s, but her eyes drop to the sand, to the frothy edges of the tide lapping at their feet. For a long moment she just watches it come and go, like maybe if she stares hard enough the sea will cough up an answer. "I…" She swallows. Her voice is smaller now, quieter. "The night we slept together, after I kissed him…he said something about how long he’d dreamt of me like that." Her fingers twist one of her shell bracelets, turning it again and again. "And I thought—I thought he meant us. Not just...sex."
Her laugh this time is brittle, barely there. "I keep going over all the things he said. He told me he’d sail with me anywhere, that he'd steal the wind for me if I needed it. That I didn’t have to be alone. And I believed him." She bites at the inside of her lip, hard enough that it draws colour back to her cheeks, but not clarity to her eyes. "But maybe I just heard what I wanted to. Maybe it was always just talk, and I wanted it to mean more than it did." A pause, then a shaky breath. "So yeah. I want to know everything. Because he’s clearly not gonna tell me, and I’d rather be hurt by the truth than keep making up reasons for why he’s not here."
you're either falling in love or you're falling apart
