you don't know that you're living 'til you're carrying scars
Flora’s lips twitch faintly at the metaphor—sun and clouds and recovery—and for a half-second she wants to argue. To say that sometimes the clouds aren’t temporary. Sometimes they settle. But she knows Soh’s just trying to hold her together with warmth and light, and gods, if that isn’t love, what is? So she doesn’t argue. Just nods, slow and sad, and offers a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. "Yeah," she says softly. "Maybe."
At Soh’s vow not to see Kai again, Flora only shrugs, the motion light and detached in a way that costs her more than she’ll admit. "You don’t have to avoid him on my account," she says. "It doesn’t matter. Not anymore." She exhales through her nose, almost a laugh, but it curls inward at the end like a wilted petal. "Before we met up the other week in Stormbreak, I went to his parents’ house." She glances at Soh, a little sheepish, a little hollow. "I just—he always said he missed home, so I asked them for a piece of it. Took this rough bit of paving stone, made it into a keychain." Her voice trails off and she laughs again, but this time there’s nothing self-deprecating about it—just ache disguised in silver bells. "Sent it anonymously because I didn't want to make things weird. Guess that didn’t matter." Guess he'd rather just have the prettier blonde who'd captured his heart in a way that I"Ve DreAmEd Of U LiKe ThIs Flora just couldn't compete with.
She shakes her head, curls bouncing lightly with the motion, though there’s no humour in it. "Gods, I feel so stupid. I let myself care so much. I thought it meant something, and he just…" Her gaze flicks toward the ocean, then drops to the sand, because she knows she's repeating herself now, but fuck if the fact that she and Kai had been friends first hadn't made the intimacy seem that much more, just as it made the distance now all the more sharp. Flora blinks hard, and then inhales sharply, pushing it down—the hurt, the weight, the sting of wanting someone who doesn’t want you back—as she reaches for Soh’s hand with warm fingers despite the salt air.
"C’mon," she murmurs, glancing up the beach with a small nod. “"Let’s keep looking. This house isn’t going to pick itself."
At Soh’s vow not to see Kai again, Flora only shrugs, the motion light and detached in a way that costs her more than she’ll admit. "You don’t have to avoid him on my account," she says. "It doesn’t matter. Not anymore." She exhales through her nose, almost a laugh, but it curls inward at the end like a wilted petal. "Before we met up the other week in Stormbreak, I went to his parents’ house." She glances at Soh, a little sheepish, a little hollow. "I just—he always said he missed home, so I asked them for a piece of it. Took this rough bit of paving stone, made it into a keychain." Her voice trails off and she laughs again, but this time there’s nothing self-deprecating about it—just ache disguised in silver bells. "Sent it anonymously because I didn't want to make things weird. Guess that didn’t matter." Guess he'd rather just have the prettier blonde who'd captured his heart in a way that I"Ve DreAmEd Of U LiKe ThIs Flora just couldn't compete with.
She shakes her head, curls bouncing lightly with the motion, though there’s no humour in it. "Gods, I feel so stupid. I let myself care so much. I thought it meant something, and he just…" Her gaze flicks toward the ocean, then drops to the sand, because she knows she's repeating herself now, but fuck if the fact that she and Kai had been friends first hadn't made the intimacy seem that much more, just as it made the distance now all the more sharp. Flora blinks hard, and then inhales sharply, pushing it down—the hurt, the weight, the sting of wanting someone who doesn’t want you back—as she reaches for Soh’s hand with warm fingers despite the salt air.
"C’mon," she murmurs, glancing up the beach with a small nod. “"Let’s keep looking. This house isn’t going to pick itself."
you're either falling in love or you're falling apart
