you don't know that you're living 'til you're carrying scars
Flora flashes a grin sharp enough to be criminal, her dimples deepening with mischief. "If you did write that spellbook, I’d annotate the margins, highlight the raunchiest bits, and distribute limited-edition, scented copies at the Hanged Man, and I bet it'd be banned in at least three regions within a season," she says, clearly delighted at the imagined chaos.
At the kiss to her fingers, her smile softens into something quieter, more grateful. "It has made him wise," she agrees, sighing as if the universe has personally wronged her. "Which is so unfair, by the way. I was supposed to be the charming one and the smart one. Now I’m just floundering around with all my scars and emotional damage while he’s off dispensing spiritual wisdom like some ethereal life coach."
She accepts her topped-up glass with a nod of thanks, only to snort into it at Vai’s mention of pulseless bachelors. "I mean, so long as Remi brings a book so he doesn't interfere...I don't see why you couldn't rustle up a date for me from the ghostly roster," she says coyly, nibbling on the inside of her cheek as her lashes flutter innocently.
Raising her own glass in return, she clinks it gently against Vai’s, her gaze fond and full of warmth. "But if you do put in a good word, tell Mort I’m coming to see him eventually. I’ve been thinking..." Her voice lowers just a touch. "I want to ask if there’s a way I could write to Enzo. Even just once in a while. Like spirit-mail or something." There’s longing in her eyes again, but it’s tempered with the strength of someone who’s learned to carry it without crumbling.
At the kiss to her fingers, her smile softens into something quieter, more grateful. "It has made him wise," she agrees, sighing as if the universe has personally wronged her. "Which is so unfair, by the way. I was supposed to be the charming one and the smart one. Now I’m just floundering around with all my scars and emotional damage while he’s off dispensing spiritual wisdom like some ethereal life coach."
She accepts her topped-up glass with a nod of thanks, only to snort into it at Vai’s mention of pulseless bachelors. "I mean, so long as Remi brings a book so he doesn't interfere...I don't see why you couldn't rustle up a date for me from the ghostly roster," she says coyly, nibbling on the inside of her cheek as her lashes flutter innocently.
Raising her own glass in return, she clinks it gently against Vai’s, her gaze fond and full of warmth. "But if you do put in a good word, tell Mort I’m coming to see him eventually. I’ve been thinking..." Her voice lowers just a touch. "I want to ask if there’s a way I could write to Enzo. Even just once in a while. Like spirit-mail or something." There’s longing in her eyes again, but it’s tempered with the strength of someone who’s learned to carry it without crumbling.
you're either falling in love or you're falling apart
