I'm like a titan that's risin'
"Make things work?" he scoffs, the sound of it echoing off all the spaces inside him like they've emptied. "The only thing you were trying to make work was me and Caly. You were practically running to talk to her to fix it after I told you I had ruined it. You said, we can't. You said, I could have something real with her." his tone rises, frustration starting to leech in, because gods if she had just given him a sign that night. "What was I supposed to think when you were telling me no and avoiding the sight of me? I'm not a mind reader Flora!"
Fuck, how did he get sucked into this sparring match with her about who had done the most wrong? He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose for a minute as he pulls in a fresh breath, trying to resettle everything. It almost works, but then a half-crazed laugh chirps free at the rest of it. "You think that was me gushing?" His eyes dart open around the curve of his hand, lips twisting crooked with a smile that lacks his usual warmth, but still manages to carry heat. "Ask me about our night if you want to hear me gush." The intensity of his stare holds her with the dare of it, unblinking for a moment as he waits. His hand is the only thing that moves, falling back to his side with a swish of his jacket.
Then she softens, suddenly seeming far less impossible and entirely too small. "I was still around," he offers gently, a subtle shrug and a swish of his shoulders. "I would have come, if you needed, if you asked." Because maybe he'd been purposefully putting distance there, but the same could be said of her. He had not ignored her letters, and he would not have denied her invitations. He just hadn't found a reason to run to Torchline, and without the Family broadcasting some new threat towards her every other day, he didn't have to panic. "But you're right," he concedes with a sigh. "I didn't make you part of the decision, and I should have." It had seemed pretty clear to him at the time, but now it's evident it'd been little more than unpolished seaglass he'd looked through, clouded with salt.
"I went to Frey about you first," he offers softly. "I went to Soh about you first..." Being first had mattered a lot to Caly, perhaps it would to Flora too. He'd hoped to have his task completed by the time he saw her again, thought she'd like it, but the masquerade and the toad had all filled up time before he knew it, and all the while the worry over her wild letters had been scratching the back of his brain, driving him to Torchline to just resolve this, even empty handed.
He starts forward at the first sign of her tears, a half-step ghosting against the flowers, their subtle sway perhaps the only giveaway before he stops himself. She wipes them away so adamantly though, he's uncertain that she'd want anything from him right now. Even the understanding he keeps trying to provide is returned in mangled condition, so he's worried what extending a hand into her cage might result in when she's this feral with hurt. "That was one night, Ro." He swallows, fingers twitching with the desire to reach for her. "I don't just want you in the dark, on a bed. I want you out loud and in the open. Endless, so that the time of day never matters. If I had you, you'd never wonder, because the world would know." So when could he have done that? When she was telling him that she's worried about the future (the one between them)? That he's a horny teenage boy?
He can't just stand and watch her cry though. He'll risk losing both arms if he has to, his legs too, and become a potato that has to be spoon fed, as long as it means maybe just for a moment he can make something better for her. The distance vanishes and he pulls her into him, even if it's kicking and screaming. "I didn't know," he breathes, the sound straining to be heard as everything inside him starts to cave in. He had no idea everything she had done, everything she had felt.
Fuck, how did he get sucked into this sparring match with her about who had done the most wrong? He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose for a minute as he pulls in a fresh breath, trying to resettle everything. It almost works, but then a half-crazed laugh chirps free at the rest of it. "You think that was me gushing?" His eyes dart open around the curve of his hand, lips twisting crooked with a smile that lacks his usual warmth, but still manages to carry heat. "Ask me about our night if you want to hear me gush." The intensity of his stare holds her with the dare of it, unblinking for a moment as he waits. His hand is the only thing that moves, falling back to his side with a swish of his jacket.
Then she softens, suddenly seeming far less impossible and entirely too small. "I was still around," he offers gently, a subtle shrug and a swish of his shoulders. "I would have come, if you needed, if you asked." Because maybe he'd been purposefully putting distance there, but the same could be said of her. He had not ignored her letters, and he would not have denied her invitations. He just hadn't found a reason to run to Torchline, and without the Family broadcasting some new threat towards her every other day, he didn't have to panic. "But you're right," he concedes with a sigh. "I didn't make you part of the decision, and I should have." It had seemed pretty clear to him at the time, but now it's evident it'd been little more than unpolished seaglass he'd looked through, clouded with salt.
"I went to Frey about you first," he offers softly. "I went to Soh about you first..." Being first had mattered a lot to Caly, perhaps it would to Flora too. He'd hoped to have his task completed by the time he saw her again, thought she'd like it, but the masquerade and the toad had all filled up time before he knew it, and all the while the worry over her wild letters had been scratching the back of his brain, driving him to Torchline to just resolve this, even empty handed.
He starts forward at the first sign of her tears, a half-step ghosting against the flowers, their subtle sway perhaps the only giveaway before he stops himself. She wipes them away so adamantly though, he's uncertain that she'd want anything from him right now. Even the understanding he keeps trying to provide is returned in mangled condition, so he's worried what extending a hand into her cage might result in when she's this feral with hurt. "That was one night, Ro." He swallows, fingers twitching with the desire to reach for her. "I don't just want you in the dark, on a bed. I want you out loud and in the open. Endless, so that the time of day never matters. If I had you, you'd never wonder, because the world would know." So when could he have done that? When she was telling him that she's worried about the future (the one between them)? That he's a horny teenage boy?
He can't just stand and watch her cry though. He'll risk losing both arms if he has to, his legs too, and become a potato that has to be spoon fed, as long as it means maybe just for a moment he can make something better for her. The distance vanishes and he pulls her into him, even if it's kicking and screaming. "I didn't know," he breathes, the sound straining to be heard as everything inside him starts to cave in. He had no idea everything she had done, everything she had felt.
Kaisel
Show you the harder the battle, the harder I fight
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
