flora
Flora’s brow lifts, surprise flitting across her face with all the subtlety of a tossed pebble skipping across still water. "You accept what he is?" she echoes, voice pitched somewhere between scandalized and shocked, like she’s not sure whether to argue or slap some sense into the ancient. But then Maea finishes the thought, and Flora lets out a sharp exhale, relief uncoiling in her shoulders as her arms drop back to her sides. "Good," she says, nodding once, firmly. "Because whatever he says, or how he acts, if you could see what I do...you'd know how completely, absolutely fucked up he still is." Her nose wrinkles again, the memory still clinging like cobwebs. "It’s not just a bad vibe. It’s like something’s living behind his eyes, and wearing his skin."
She shakes the thought away, like water flung from her curls, and the shift in topic lets her whole body lighten. Her grin returns as she elbows Maea gently. "But hey—congrats," she says with an arch of her brows, her tone teasing but warm. "That's awesome."
She tucks her hands back into her pockets as they continue walking, leaves whispering beneath their steps. Maea’s thoughts on homesickness earn a thoughtful hum. "Probably," Flora agrees. "Even if you settle somewhere new, the old place keeps echoing." With a little shrug, she adds, "I’ve lived in Torchline way longer than I ever did in the Greatwood. But...it’s still where I was born. Where I grew up. So I doubt it’ll ever stop feeling like home at least a little bit." She smiles, but there’s something wistful beneath it—like she’s already bracing for the ache to come back. "It’s just...one of those things you carry, I guess."
Knowing precisely who it was Maea wouldn't want to bump into, the young queen clears her throat. Whatever ease had stretched between she and the pale ancient, her loyalties were still steadfastly with Danta and Asta, so it was that she merely met the end of Maea's sentiment with a noncommital shrug.
She shakes the thought away, like water flung from her curls, and the shift in topic lets her whole body lighten. Her grin returns as she elbows Maea gently. "But hey—congrats," she says with an arch of her brows, her tone teasing but warm. "That's awesome."
She tucks her hands back into her pockets as they continue walking, leaves whispering beneath their steps. Maea’s thoughts on homesickness earn a thoughtful hum. "Probably," Flora agrees. "Even if you settle somewhere new, the old place keeps echoing." With a little shrug, she adds, "I’ve lived in Torchline way longer than I ever did in the Greatwood. But...it’s still where I was born. Where I grew up. So I doubt it’ll ever stop feeling like home at least a little bit." She smiles, but there’s something wistful beneath it—like she’s already bracing for the ache to come back. "It’s just...one of those things you carry, I guess."
Knowing precisely who it was Maea wouldn't want to bump into, the young queen clears her throat. Whatever ease had stretched between she and the pale ancient, her loyalties were still steadfastly with Danta and Asta, so it was that she merely met the end of Maea's sentiment with a noncommital shrug.
what doesn't kill me makes
me want you more
me want you more
