Honey wherever you go, I know
"A LongNight rager?" he simpers at the idea, never one to shy from a celebration, but a week long sounds like the sort to give you the forever sleep. "What, all the body heat keeps everyone warm for the season, is that the plan?" He glances sidelong at her, trying to ascertain if this is the sort of party he could find her at, never having quite been able to keep track of her at any of the others.
He's acutely aware of the position of her gaze as it marks portions of him, requiring a certain tilt of his head, as though he means to offer her the best angle for consideration. Though Flora has always been willing to look, it's usually doctored with a sly tease, or so he'd always thought. He's never had much practice withstanding it in earnest, not even this imitation of it. It slows his breath for a moment, especially as her hand finds the curve of his arm, wrist curling into an unsubtle flex that doesn't seem to alter his grade one bit.
"It's from all the running around," he says with a lazy smile shoved back into place, undoing some of the pause that tried to falter his stride. "Ghosts to pulverize, toads to vanquish, and so many chores. I swear, everyone has fucking digging projects. I think half of Caido has it out for the ground." The humor is laid out like something so practiced it's easy, second nature instead of the reality of being truly on his own for the first time ever. Her's is perhaps the first keen eye that's found the edges of him that have started to become rougher with lack of care.
His name rouses a satisfied chuckle, and this is where he would have looped his arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer to him, affection finding it's way into every footfall. Instead he cuts her a glance, the edges of his triumphant smirk gentling into the sweep of a quiet smile, content just to have her beside him in a way that doesn't feel as cold as before.
At least, he did, until she started measuring. Four inches can be a lot, Flora.
His eyebrows shoulder most of the work as his face falters into utter dismay over her estimations. "This is regular tall!" He voice rises with an undesirable pitch and he runs an impatient hand through his hair with a grumble. "Never getting something off a shelf you can't reach again," he mutters, a full on liar. His hands gesture out in front of him after a pause, what had seemed put to bed resurfacing abruptly. "Besides, it's not the height that matters, it's the man." Not that he wanted to keep talking about her step-dad, the sex icon, but height only had a fraction to do with his appeal, Kaisel is certain.
He's acutely aware of the position of her gaze as it marks portions of him, requiring a certain tilt of his head, as though he means to offer her the best angle for consideration. Though Flora has always been willing to look, it's usually doctored with a sly tease, or so he'd always thought. He's never had much practice withstanding it in earnest, not even this imitation of it. It slows his breath for a moment, especially as her hand finds the curve of his arm, wrist curling into an unsubtle flex that doesn't seem to alter his grade one bit.
"It's from all the running around," he says with a lazy smile shoved back into place, undoing some of the pause that tried to falter his stride. "Ghosts to pulverize, toads to vanquish, and so many chores. I swear, everyone has fucking digging projects. I think half of Caido has it out for the ground." The humor is laid out like something so practiced it's easy, second nature instead of the reality of being truly on his own for the first time ever. Her's is perhaps the first keen eye that's found the edges of him that have started to become rougher with lack of care.
His name rouses a satisfied chuckle, and this is where he would have looped his arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer to him, affection finding it's way into every footfall. Instead he cuts her a glance, the edges of his triumphant smirk gentling into the sweep of a quiet smile, content just to have her beside him in a way that doesn't feel as cold as before.
At least, he did, until she started measuring. Four inches can be a lot, Flora.
His eyebrows shoulder most of the work as his face falters into utter dismay over her estimations. "This is regular tall!" He voice rises with an undesirable pitch and he runs an impatient hand through his hair with a grumble. "Never getting something off a shelf you can't reach again," he mutters, a full on liar. His hands gesture out in front of him after a pause, what had seemed put to bed resurfacing abruptly. "Besides, it's not the height that matters, it's the man." Not that he wanted to keep talking about her step-dad, the sex icon, but height only had a fraction to do with his appeal, Kaisel is certain.
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
