flora
The mist kisses her cheeks like sea breeze, and for once, Flora doesn’t wipe it away. The salt crusting her skin isn’t from the glacial spray alone, after all—not when her lashes are still faintly stiff from earlier tears, not when her makeup bag remains buried in the bottom of her bag, unopened for the first time in days. There’s no use painting herself up when everything keeps coming undone.
But she has held it together today. Mostly. For Soh. For the quiet comfort of this impossible waterfall and the picnic; for the promise that they’d come here together, and that it would feel like something new.
Her arm tightens gently around Sohalia’s as she hums a soft note of agreement. "I know, right?" she echoes, her voice a little raw but still her own. "If I had more blankets and some firewood and like... a magical hairbrush, I could absolutely live up here forever."
She nudges her chin toward a valley below them, where the outline of an old houseboat still clings stubbornly to the land, half-swallowed by wildflowers and vines. "That was theirs," she murmurs. "My dads’. Before they moved back to Torchline." It was mostly just a suggestion of a house now, but if you looked at it from the right angle, you could still see the shape of it in the green.
Tilting her head, she nudges her friend again, just enough to draw her back to the present as she tugs her oversized shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. "So," she says, voice a little brighter. "What else do you need for your quest? I know it has to be at night, but like...do you have to dance under starlight? Sacrifice a baguette or something?" Her smile curves tired but real. "I have loads of snacks for later, either way."
But she has held it together today. Mostly. For Soh. For the quiet comfort of this impossible waterfall and the picnic; for the promise that they’d come here together, and that it would feel like something new.
Her arm tightens gently around Sohalia’s as she hums a soft note of agreement. "I know, right?" she echoes, her voice a little raw but still her own. "If I had more blankets and some firewood and like... a magical hairbrush, I could absolutely live up here forever."
She nudges her chin toward a valley below them, where the outline of an old houseboat still clings stubbornly to the land, half-swallowed by wildflowers and vines. "That was theirs," she murmurs. "My dads’. Before they moved back to Torchline." It was mostly just a suggestion of a house now, but if you looked at it from the right angle, you could still see the shape of it in the green.
Tilting her head, she nudges her friend again, just enough to draw her back to the present as she tugs her oversized shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. "So," she says, voice a little brighter. "What else do you need for your quest? I know it has to be at night, but like...do you have to dance under starlight? Sacrifice a baguette or something?" Her smile curves tired but real. "I have loads of snacks for later, either way."
& someone else lights up the room; people love an ingénue
will you still want me when i'm nothing new?
will you still want me when i'm nothing new?
