flora
Flora wrinkles her nose at him in a way that lands somewhere between fond and exasperated, curls bouncing as she shakes her head. "Please. You’re plenty powerful enough without adding me into the mix," she says, laughter lilting around the rim of her wineglass before she tips it for another sip. "Though," her grin tilts as she lowers it again, eyes catching on his with deliberate sparkle, "I’d be utterly delighted if you ever did decide to call this in. Just to see what you’d do with it." Asta asked so little of her, after all.
Her gaze flickers to the blades he’s set out, to the poised sharpness of his theatrics, and she hums her approval as she nods. "Wood and bone sounds perfect," she agrees, though her tone carries the weight of knowing he'd make something remarkable out of napkins if that was all he had. For her own part, she tugs a small mirror across the pile of fabric and scraps, laying it flat between two swatches of soft cloth. The hammer nearby looks far less delicate, but she braces her breath anyway, curls falling forward as she lifts it and brings it down. The mirror shatters in muffled cracks beneath the cloth, fragments straining against the fabric that holds them together, glittering with edges like captured starlight.
As for what sorts of spirits, her voice dips softer, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "I asked Ludo if it knew of any that might want to haunt my new house. It didn’t seem opposed." A smile ghosts shy at the corners of her mouth, equal parts playful and earnest. "And honestly, with how big the place is, it might be nice to have some company. Just to make it feel less empty when everyone isn’t over and it’s just me and Spice rattling around inside."
Her gaze flickers to the blades he’s set out, to the poised sharpness of his theatrics, and she hums her approval as she nods. "Wood and bone sounds perfect," she agrees, though her tone carries the weight of knowing he'd make something remarkable out of napkins if that was all he had. For her own part, she tugs a small mirror across the pile of fabric and scraps, laying it flat between two swatches of soft cloth. The hammer nearby looks far less delicate, but she braces her breath anyway, curls falling forward as she lifts it and brings it down. The mirror shatters in muffled cracks beneath the cloth, fragments straining against the fabric that holds them together, glittering with edges like captured starlight.
As for what sorts of spirits, her voice dips softer, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "I asked Ludo if it knew of any that might want to haunt my new house. It didn’t seem opposed." A smile ghosts shy at the corners of her mouth, equal parts playful and earnest. "And honestly, with how big the place is, it might be nice to have some company. Just to make it feel less empty when everyone isn’t over and it’s just me and Spice rattling around inside."
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart
you're either falling in love or falling apart
