Honey wherever you go, I know
"Flora," he sighs with the threat of a laugh, though it's bordering exasperation rather than humor. She still doesn't seem to grasp how much she means to him when he tells her. "I did drop her, just for the chance at a dance with you, remember?" He's certain she does, she'd just mentioned that night, but maybe it's stained her memory differently than his.
"I'd just had my mouth on her, Flora. And I still left."
Honestly, he's surprised Caly had given him the time of day after that, especially since he'd been dressed up as Flora, as if that hadn't been a cry for her attention disguised as just another one of his ridiculous antics. It had earned him the first kiss from Flora, he supposes, which he hadn't counted at the time because it hadn't felt like a real one, but maybe he'd been just as blind. "If I'd known then that you wanted to come home with me that night, I would have shut down the bar with you." Instead, she'd pushed him away and told him to go. He'd gone instead of fighting for something further, too stupid to realize her old patterns were being turned against him. The clarity of it sharpens now, like he's counting every chance he wasted because he'd listened to her words instead of the want buried beneath.
Something in him goes taut with that knowledge, humming just under the surface of his pulse.
As she steps in, her hand fits into his with the presence of a ghost, and his chest tightens, breath clinging to a rib as each word of hers lands like another brick between them. "I thought I was losing you," he whispers, the sound of it broken as it tears the grip of his voice from his sides with effort. "It felt like asking for more than the one night we had was going to break us, and losing what little I had of you seemed worse than risking more." So he'd turned to Caly, as she repeatedly pushed him to. Someone he'd hurt and wanted to make amends with. Someone he's tried to use as a place to bury his affections, since it seemed futile with Flora, like maybe he could learn how to love someone else if he tried. Now he has no interest in trying.
"I owed her an apology," he murmurs of the letter. "And, I wanted to try with her, because it didn't seem like there was room for that, with us. I thought it'd help...show I could still be your friend, even after everything." Because if trying for more with Flora had scared her off, maybe Caly could reassure her he wouldn't risk it again. Maybe it'd been to reassure himself, too.
He stills at the cut of her refusal, so softly spoken, but the heaviest thing she's asked him to bear. She's pushing back again, like she could put the words back in his mouth, the feelings back in the box he used to keep them in. His teeth press together, refusing to reclaim them. "I know," he says at last as she confesses to hurt that still thrives, his expression softening, wanting to weave himself around every point that still digs into her. "I know," The words sigh out of him, like admitting he can't change the past is the hardest thing he's ever faced. "I don't want you to hurt, Flora," his voice comes thinner, straining with the stretch to reach across the gap, snaring on each point of pain that's made itself known until the length of it is barely enough to manage the distance.
She won't look at him again, her fingers limp in his grip, but he won't fall for this old move of hers again. The one where she shoves, where she hides behind a cover she's slipped on to pretend. He reaches out for her chin, pulling it up as he leans in on the heels of it to kiss her. Deliberate this time, meaningful. A kiss not just to reach her, but to show her the future could be better than the past, if only they'd look the same way for once.
"I'd just had my mouth on her, Flora. And I still left."
Honestly, he's surprised Caly had given him the time of day after that, especially since he'd been dressed up as Flora, as if that hadn't been a cry for her attention disguised as just another one of his ridiculous antics. It had earned him the first kiss from Flora, he supposes, which he hadn't counted at the time because it hadn't felt like a real one, but maybe he'd been just as blind. "If I'd known then that you wanted to come home with me that night, I would have shut down the bar with you." Instead, she'd pushed him away and told him to go. He'd gone instead of fighting for something further, too stupid to realize her old patterns were being turned against him. The clarity of it sharpens now, like he's counting every chance he wasted because he'd listened to her words instead of the want buried beneath.
Something in him goes taut with that knowledge, humming just under the surface of his pulse.
As she steps in, her hand fits into his with the presence of a ghost, and his chest tightens, breath clinging to a rib as each word of hers lands like another brick between them. "I thought I was losing you," he whispers, the sound of it broken as it tears the grip of his voice from his sides with effort. "It felt like asking for more than the one night we had was going to break us, and losing what little I had of you seemed worse than risking more." So he'd turned to Caly, as she repeatedly pushed him to. Someone he'd hurt and wanted to make amends with. Someone he's tried to use as a place to bury his affections, since it seemed futile with Flora, like maybe he could learn how to love someone else if he tried. Now he has no interest in trying.
"I owed her an apology," he murmurs of the letter. "And, I wanted to try with her, because it didn't seem like there was room for that, with us. I thought it'd help...show I could still be your friend, even after everything." Because if trying for more with Flora had scared her off, maybe Caly could reassure her he wouldn't risk it again. Maybe it'd been to reassure himself, too.
He stills at the cut of her refusal, so softly spoken, but the heaviest thing she's asked him to bear. She's pushing back again, like she could put the words back in his mouth, the feelings back in the box he used to keep them in. His teeth press together, refusing to reclaim them. "I know," he says at last as she confesses to hurt that still thrives, his expression softening, wanting to weave himself around every point that still digs into her. "I know," The words sigh out of him, like admitting he can't change the past is the hardest thing he's ever faced. "I don't want you to hurt, Flora," his voice comes thinner, straining with the stretch to reach across the gap, snaring on each point of pain that's made itself known until the length of it is barely enough to manage the distance.
She won't look at him again, her fingers limp in his grip, but he won't fall for this old move of hers again. The one where she shoves, where she hides behind a cover she's slipped on to pretend. He reaches out for her chin, pulling it up as he leans in on the heels of it to kiss her. Deliberate this time, meaningful. A kiss not just to reach her, but to show her the future could be better than the past, if only they'd look the same way for once.
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
