we show off our different scarlet letters
Flora doesn’t answer right away—doesn’t fill the space with her usual flurry of quips or dramatic retorts. Instead, she lets Asta’s words linger, weighing them like something precious in her palm. Because if there’s anyone qualified to speak on the matter of fear—of being seen, truly seen, as dangerous—it’s the Gentleman Butcher himself. "So what," she says at last, slow and musing, "you think I should start demonstrating it more? Let people see what happens when I stop being charming and start being lethal?" Her eyes flick up to him, sharp and curious, a little dangerous in their own right. She certainly could do that, she supposed.
The laugh that follows is brighter, though no less thoughtful. "I mean, banishing someone from my region is always a strong start," she concedes, "but I wouldn’t mind people thinking twice about fucking with me for other reasons too. Much as I don't always mind being underestimated—" She was the Doubletake for a reason, "it does get a bit old."
As he agrees to help her push her limits, Flora flashes him a grin that’s all teeth, no fangs needed. "It’s a date," she purrs, emboldened by the thrill still buzzing in her bones. "I’d love Danta to join—" her eyes glitter with mischief, "assuming it doesn’t make you absolutely unbearable. You know. Season and all."
There’s no hesitation in her next smile, no coyness at all as her gaze flicks downward with a wicked glint. "Nahhh," she says sweetly, "you already have a few seats I’m rather fond of riding on—" her brow arches meaningfully, "no additional construction needed." The laugh that follows is full-bodied and unrepentant, her expression bright with the thrill of the tease. Not that another dalliance with the butcher was impossible, but certainly Danta's presence was a bare minimum for her words to be anything other than harmless flirtations.
As he laments the effectiveness of the muzzle, she wrinkles her nose and sighs with exaggerated sympathy, hating the idea of him being locked up, but also not having to deal with the consequences of when he wasn't. "Suppose that’s good for you then," she says, "and I bet it probably just makes you look more menacing on security duty. Like a very stylish demon freshly escaped from his gilded cage." The brush of his tail against her leg sends a soft shiver up her spine, and she tilts her face up toward him, that smile still lingering like sugar on her lips. "But you can make just about anything look good."
The laugh that follows is brighter, though no less thoughtful. "I mean, banishing someone from my region is always a strong start," she concedes, "but I wouldn’t mind people thinking twice about fucking with me for other reasons too. Much as I don't always mind being underestimated—" She was the Doubletake for a reason, "it does get a bit old."
As he agrees to help her push her limits, Flora flashes him a grin that’s all teeth, no fangs needed. "It’s a date," she purrs, emboldened by the thrill still buzzing in her bones. "I’d love Danta to join—" her eyes glitter with mischief, "assuming it doesn’t make you absolutely unbearable. You know. Season and all."
There’s no hesitation in her next smile, no coyness at all as her gaze flicks downward with a wicked glint. "Nahhh," she says sweetly, "you already have a few seats I’m rather fond of riding on—" her brow arches meaningfully, "no additional construction needed." The laugh that follows is full-bodied and unrepentant, her expression bright with the thrill of the tease. Not that another dalliance with the butcher was impossible, but certainly Danta's presence was a bare minimum for her words to be anything other than harmless flirtations.
As he laments the effectiveness of the muzzle, she wrinkles her nose and sighs with exaggerated sympathy, hating the idea of him being locked up, but also not having to deal with the consequences of when he wasn't. "Suppose that’s good for you then," she says, "and I bet it probably just makes you look more menacing on security duty. Like a very stylish demon freshly escaped from his gilded cage." The brush of his tail against her leg sends a soft shiver up her spine, and she tilts her face up toward him, that smile still lingering like sugar on her lips. "But you can make just about anything look good."
