candlewax & polaroids on the hardwood floor
Flora nods slowly, as if Mateo’s clarification had been exactly what she’d expected all along. "Mhm. Thought so," she says sagely, though the effect lasts only a moment before she shrugs, curls bouncing. "Since I don’t need him as a bartender anymore, I wouldn’t notice one way or the other. But sure—, I mean obviously I’m happy Isla’s happy." She'd trade both the aviator and the Remedy in an instant if it meant Mateo would stay, though.
His remark about seeing more than they bargained for earns a dramatic wrinkle of her nose before she bursts into cackling laughter. "Oh gods, can you imagine? I’d open the wardrobe with a bottle of wine and some cheese and crackers, only to find you in the middle of an orgy." She wipes at her eyes with her sleeve, still giggling. "We could add a doorbell or something. But yeah, another room might be safest."
Bending to the fountain, she lets the Torchline water slip free, then plunges her hand in to swirl it around, cool and clear against her fingers. Over her shoulder she hums, half distracted, at his musings about constellations and Safrin. "Stars on wardrobes for sure."
At her sharp whistle, Spice dips low out of the bright sky, clutching a delicate piece of coral. The little dragon sets it proudly atop the fountain where the falling water splashes over it, brightening the carved stone with a flicker of ocean colour. Flora steps back, hands settling on her hips, one brow rising as she turns to her brother. "Well? Think the spirits will be happy?"
His remark about seeing more than they bargained for earns a dramatic wrinkle of her nose before she bursts into cackling laughter. "Oh gods, can you imagine? I’d open the wardrobe with a bottle of wine and some cheese and crackers, only to find you in the middle of an orgy." She wipes at her eyes with her sleeve, still giggling. "We could add a doorbell or something. But yeah, another room might be safest."
Bending to the fountain, she lets the Torchline water slip free, then plunges her hand in to swirl it around, cool and clear against her fingers. Over her shoulder she hums, half distracted, at his musings about constellations and Safrin. "Stars on wardrobes for sure."
At her sharp whistle, Spice dips low out of the bright sky, clutching a delicate piece of coral. The little dragon sets it proudly atop the fountain where the falling water splashes over it, brightening the carved stone with a flicker of ocean colour. Flora steps back, hands settling on her hips, one brow rising as she turns to her brother. "Well? Think the spirits will be happy?"
