you don't know that you're living 'til you're carrying scars
Flora slows as Soh tugs her gently to a stop, sand cool beneath her feet and wind tangling at the hem of her dress. She doesn’t resist, but there’s a familiar tension in her shoulders, the kind that speaks of old conversations dressed up in new heartbreak. Everyone always says the same thing—you deserve better, don’t settle, you’re worth more—but gods, when your heart’s already halfway down the path, what good does the map do?
When Soh cradles her face and calls her the sun, Flora tries to hold her gaze, she really does. But the words feel too big, too radiant for the dull, bruised ache inside her chest. "I’m not," she whispers, shaking her head. "I’m just Flora. I mess things up. I fall too hard. I say the wrong thing and pretend it didn’t hurt." Her voice is steady, but only because it’s gone quiet. "The sun doesn’t do that." Truly, some days it felt like Jack was the only person who never put her on a pedestal, and look just how far she'd fallen in his estimation.
But then as Soh goes on, explaining what Kaisel had said after King’s End, after kissing her and promising her everything and then disappearing like it hadn’t meant anything at all. Flora’s eyes shut, lashes trembling as the words pour in. The way her heart seems to stutter and stop is worse than she'd expected it to be, despite having anticipated Soh saying precisely all the things she was. It really just had been all talk, then. "He said—" Her throat catches, and she has to swallow hard before trying again. "He said he wanted the mess of me. Exactly as I am. That he wasn’t going anywhere. That I belonged to him, and nothing would change that." Her eyes open, glossy with a sheen of tears she refuses to let fall, even as they sting like salt and old glass. "But everything changed anyway."
She shakes her head, curls falling into her face before she brushes them back, squaring her shoulders like it might hold her heart together. "So if he told you he still wanted to be with Caly after coming to see me at the House of Midnight and saying all of that, then...yeah. That’s that." Her voice is too calm now. Practised. Polished. Queenlike.
But when she blinks, she can’t stop the shimmer that clings to her lashes. She glances away—out toward the surf—then back to Soh. "That quest thing you mentioned? I don’t want to know. I don’t care what it is. If you talk to him again, tell him to stop. Or finish it for himself. Whatever. But it’s not for me anymore, and whatever it is or it's meant to be..." Flora shakes her head. She's tempted to say it's too late, but how could it be, when apparently there'd never been anything to save in the first place?
When Soh cradles her face and calls her the sun, Flora tries to hold her gaze, she really does. But the words feel too big, too radiant for the dull, bruised ache inside her chest. "I’m not," she whispers, shaking her head. "I’m just Flora. I mess things up. I fall too hard. I say the wrong thing and pretend it didn’t hurt." Her voice is steady, but only because it’s gone quiet. "The sun doesn’t do that." Truly, some days it felt like Jack was the only person who never put her on a pedestal, and look just how far she'd fallen in his estimation.
But then as Soh goes on, explaining what Kaisel had said after King’s End, after kissing her and promising her everything and then disappearing like it hadn’t meant anything at all. Flora’s eyes shut, lashes trembling as the words pour in. The way her heart seems to stutter and stop is worse than she'd expected it to be, despite having anticipated Soh saying precisely all the things she was. It really just had been all talk, then. "He said—" Her throat catches, and she has to swallow hard before trying again. "He said he wanted the mess of me. Exactly as I am. That he wasn’t going anywhere. That I belonged to him, and nothing would change that." Her eyes open, glossy with a sheen of tears she refuses to let fall, even as they sting like salt and old glass. "But everything changed anyway."
She shakes her head, curls falling into her face before she brushes them back, squaring her shoulders like it might hold her heart together. "So if he told you he still wanted to be with Caly after coming to see me at the House of Midnight and saying all of that, then...yeah. That’s that." Her voice is too calm now. Practised. Polished. Queenlike.
But when she blinks, she can’t stop the shimmer that clings to her lashes. She glances away—out toward the surf—then back to Soh. "That quest thing you mentioned? I don’t want to know. I don’t care what it is. If you talk to him again, tell him to stop. Or finish it for himself. Whatever. But it’s not for me anymore, and whatever it is or it's meant to be..." Flora shakes her head. She's tempted to say it's too late, but how could it be, when apparently there'd never been anything to save in the first place?
you're either falling in love or you're falling apart
