flora
It feels almost dangerous, how natural this comfort is—how easily Flora could let herself sprawl into it and never want to move again. There’s a sweetness in the steady rise and fall of Jack’s chest against hers, his heartbeat drumming in tandem with her own until it feels less like two people tangled in bed and more like one long wave being passed back and forth between them, cresting and settling in the hush after the storm. Her lips brush his shoulder as if the words slip out without her quite meaning to, a quiet admission shaped into the air between them. "You feel good." Around her, inside of her, pulse pounding against her. Normally she might have kept it in her head, but with how much he’s been urging her lately to say things out loud, she lets this one find a voice.
As he laughs, Flora's smile unfurls against his shoulder, thoughts champagne-light and irrepressible, her lashes brushing his skin as she rolls her eyes at herself as much as at him. He’ll feel the curve of her grin before he hears her voice, sly but warm, stitched through with laughter she doesn’t bother to hold back. "So, d’you think you’ll be able to gaslight Bassian into thinking it was someone else in your bed making all that noise," she murmurs, teasing and wicked in equal measure, "or did I just blow our cover for good?"
As he laughs, Flora's smile unfurls against his shoulder, thoughts champagne-light and irrepressible, her lashes brushing his skin as she rolls her eyes at herself as much as at him. He’ll feel the curve of her grin before he hears her voice, sly but warm, stitched through with laughter she doesn’t bother to hold back. "So, d’you think you’ll be able to gaslight Bassian into thinking it was someone else in your bed making all that noise," she murmurs, teasing and wicked in equal measure, "or did I just blow our cover for good?"
you're under the feeling like teenagers in cars
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours
