Flora
"Uhm, it's only because of your face that my mood is insufferable." Flora shoots back, rolling her eyes as if the answer’s obvious and his grin is the worst thing she’s ever had to endure. "Ruins a whole day." The grin tugging at her own mouth tells a different story, of course—one that’s been rewritten and reread so many times she can’t quite remember where the original line between them even was.
At the suggestion of running, she nods firmly. "Absolutely would’ve made you run. Your endurance is trash." But the second airborne leaves his mouth, lips part, "lots of other ways to exercise airborne," she blurts before she can stop herself, the implication hitting just as his gaze drops to her mouth. A jolt ripples down her spine like lightning finding the nearest tree to split. She clears her throat, chin angling away like maybe if she doesn’t look at him, she can pretend the words had remained safely behind her tongue. "...like skipping in place," she adds, blushing.
"No," she says flatly when he brings up the dragon again, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Not admitting anything. It’s just a reasonable rule to have. Dragons are territorial, after all." Beside her, Spice narrows her icy blue eyes and lets out a breath of frost, the huff clearly aimed in his direction. "See? She agrees."
But it’s the offer that catches Flora off guard—not the words, exactly, but the weight of them drawing her mind to what had happened when they were last in this kitchen together. Her mouth opens, then closes again, the image of counters and cabinets and his hands against her hips and how she'd nearly kissed him that night when he'd been braced overtop of her. "Uhhhh," she says, a hand to comb through one of her curls. "Sure. I mean...yeah, it's your house now, so your call."
At the suggestion of running, she nods firmly. "Absolutely would’ve made you run. Your endurance is trash." But the second airborne leaves his mouth, lips part, "lots of other ways to exercise airborne," she blurts before she can stop herself, the implication hitting just as his gaze drops to her mouth. A jolt ripples down her spine like lightning finding the nearest tree to split. She clears her throat, chin angling away like maybe if she doesn’t look at him, she can pretend the words had remained safely behind her tongue. "...like skipping in place," she adds, blushing.
"No," she says flatly when he brings up the dragon again, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Not admitting anything. It’s just a reasonable rule to have. Dragons are territorial, after all." Beside her, Spice narrows her icy blue eyes and lets out a breath of frost, the huff clearly aimed in his direction. "See? She agrees."
But it’s the offer that catches Flora off guard—not the words, exactly, but the weight of them drawing her mind to what had happened when they were last in this kitchen together. Her mouth opens, then closes again, the image of counters and cabinets and his hands against her hips and how she'd nearly kissed him that night when he'd been braced overtop of her. "Uhhhh," she says, a hand to comb through one of her curls. "Sure. I mean...yeah, it's your house now, so your call."
I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
Code stolen from Queen Sky
