yeah I got heartbreak that I reminisce about
Flora’s lips twist, affectionate and dry, at his promise to alert her of any incoming chaos. "You better," she murmurs, her gaze flicking toward the dancers and drinkers as if searching for the next scene before it starts. It’s so easy—too easy, really—to fall back into old rhythms with Jack, to slip into the ebb and flow of banter and brushes of thought, like waves reclaiming sand that never really stopped belonging to them. And with enough liquor in her veins, she doesn’t stop herself from leaning into it. Doesn’t stop the glint of warmth that threads through her thoughts, the kind that only comes from years of this: shoulder to shoulder with someone who never stayed, but never really left either.
At the comment about her outfit, Flora glances down, running a hand along the feathered curve of her neckline. "Oh, this old thing?" she says, faux-modest as her lashes flutter up. Then she gestures toward the clearing, where Niki’s stark skeletal half-mask still glints faintly through the lantern haze. "Made it with my ghost," she says with a wink. "He did the bones, I did the drama. We're quite the team."
But it’s his next question that catches her off guard; not because it’s inappropriate (gods, since when has that ever stopped them), but because there’s no answer ready. Her mind doesn’t leap to Kaisel the way it used to, not after weeks of silence and complications and recent clusterfuck of the letters they'd sent back and forth. Instead, it blanks, then flickers—briefly, involuntarily—with the copper-orange gleam of Jack’s mask and the impossible blue of his eyes.
She shrugs, casual as the ripple of silk against her skin. "Now that you mention it," she says, her tone light, almost distracted, "I’ve done a lot more fighting in the Greatwood than anything else." The rest drifts unsaid, but it curls through her chest all the same. This was a place she'd died, where she and Jack had screamed at each other more than they'd ever done anything else, and yet somehow, for all the ways and places they'd had one another, the woods had never been one.
Out loud, all she offers is a lazy smile and a softer edge to her voice. "Alright then." Nodding out into the crowd, Flora raises a brow as she glances over her shoulder at the captain. "You pick someone for me and I'll see if I can't tempt them into the woods. If there's no drama yet, someone has to be the one to start it."
At the comment about her outfit, Flora glances down, running a hand along the feathered curve of her neckline. "Oh, this old thing?" she says, faux-modest as her lashes flutter up. Then she gestures toward the clearing, where Niki’s stark skeletal half-mask still glints faintly through the lantern haze. "Made it with my ghost," she says with a wink. "He did the bones, I did the drama. We're quite the team."
But it’s his next question that catches her off guard; not because it’s inappropriate (gods, since when has that ever stopped them), but because there’s no answer ready. Her mind doesn’t leap to Kaisel the way it used to, not after weeks of silence and complications and recent clusterfuck of the letters they'd sent back and forth. Instead, it blanks, then flickers—briefly, involuntarily—with the copper-orange gleam of Jack’s mask and the impossible blue of his eyes.
She shrugs, casual as the ripple of silk against her skin. "Now that you mention it," she says, her tone light, almost distracted, "I’ve done a lot more fighting in the Greatwood than anything else." The rest drifts unsaid, but it curls through her chest all the same. This was a place she'd died, where she and Jack had screamed at each other more than they'd ever done anything else, and yet somehow, for all the ways and places they'd had one another, the woods had never been one.
Out loud, all she offers is a lazy smile and a softer edge to her voice. "Alright then." Nodding out into the crowd, Flora raises a brow as she glances over her shoulder at the captain. "You pick someone for me and I'll see if I can't tempt them into the woods. If there's no drama yet, someone has to be the one to start it."
some real big things I still gotta figure out
