Flora
She wrinkles her nose down at him in fond judgement, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes as she descends upon the kitchen once more with the broom slung like a sceptre. His flattery is as thick as melted cheese and twice as greasy, but hey—she’ll take it. Lip service is still service, after all.
"Oh you do, do you," she chirps sweetly, pointedly ignoring his accusation of mutual mess-making. She starts sweeping, each motion a bit more forceful than necessary. And if she just so happens to swipe at his feet a few times in the process—well. A thorough cleaning is a queenly standard, and someone had to get in those hard-to-reach places. There might be sand, after all.
She pauses only to sigh with exasperated elegance as he yelps from the very obvious and predicted self-inflicted burn. Leaning her weight against the broom like it’s a tragic cane, she tilts her head as if weighing her life’s burdens. When she finally turns toward the counter, it’s to see the tray of bubbling nachos—now gloriously golden and not on fire, thank the gods—and she smirks. Reaching out with deliberate daintiness, she plucks a chip by its corner, long nails protecting her fingers from the heat as she lifts it with the reverence of a jewelled dagger. Blowing softly to cool it, her eyes lock onto Kaisel’s with slow, smug delight.
"Huh," she says, her voice all mock wonder. "Funny how all of the ingredients I used ended up tasting good." She takes a delicate bite, savouring the crunch before adding, with a slow blink of faux innocence, [asy]"And all of yours ended up on the floor."
Turning slightly as she chews, she clicks her tongue and shakes her head like the disappointment is his to bear. "Some lunch you made me," she sighs. "Chips, cheese, hot sauce, oven. All mine. You, meanwhile, heroically pulled it out and immediately scalded yourself. Such effort." There’s a sparkle behind her smugness though, playful and bright. Like maybe the dramatics were part of the flavour all along, not that she'd admit it or allow him to take one crumb of credit.
"Oh you do, do you," she chirps sweetly, pointedly ignoring his accusation of mutual mess-making. She starts sweeping, each motion a bit more forceful than necessary. And if she just so happens to swipe at his feet a few times in the process—well. A thorough cleaning is a queenly standard, and someone had to get in those hard-to-reach places. There might be sand, after all.
She pauses only to sigh with exasperated elegance as he yelps from the very obvious and predicted self-inflicted burn. Leaning her weight against the broom like it’s a tragic cane, she tilts her head as if weighing her life’s burdens. When she finally turns toward the counter, it’s to see the tray of bubbling nachos—now gloriously golden and not on fire, thank the gods—and she smirks. Reaching out with deliberate daintiness, she plucks a chip by its corner, long nails protecting her fingers from the heat as she lifts it with the reverence of a jewelled dagger. Blowing softly to cool it, her eyes lock onto Kaisel’s with slow, smug delight.
"Huh," she says, her voice all mock wonder. "Funny how all of the ingredients I used ended up tasting good." She takes a delicate bite, savouring the crunch before adding, with a slow blink of faux innocence, [asy]"And all of yours ended up on the floor."
Turning slightly as she chews, she clicks her tongue and shakes her head like the disappointment is his to bear. "Some lunch you made me," she sighs. "Chips, cheese, hot sauce, oven. All mine. You, meanwhile, heroically pulled it out and immediately scalded yourself. Such effort." There’s a sparkle behind her smugness though, playful and bright. Like maybe the dramatics were part of the flavour all along, not that she'd admit it or allow him to take one crumb of credit.
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
