am I stitching up seams, or pulling on triggers?

flora

Flora huffs under her breath, the sound soft but certain. "Yeah, right," she murmurs, head tilting enough for a curl to slip loose against his shoulder. "You’d never be able to leave Torchline no matter how long you were gone for."

The press of his hand over hers stills her fidgeting, and it draws a breath from her that doesn’t even come close to filling her lungs. Against her better judgment, the urge to kiss him edges close again, and she has to swallow it down, exhaling instead. Rolling her eyes before she lets them close, she says, "Probably you’d have told me it was a terrible idea and not to do it, and I’d have done it anyway." Her fingers twitch faintly against his skin. In her mind, though, the thought lingers sharper; whether if she’d known what he’d say back then and how it would make him feel, if she would have chosen Torchline, or chosen him.

His humour is easier to grab onto, and she does, her body loosening as a snort of laughter leaves her. "Maybe the rooms shuffle around," she muses, the corner of her mouth tipping up as she tilts her head back to smirk up at him. "And so yours only has an ocean view when you’re being nice to me."

you're under the feeling like teenagers in cars
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!