flora
Flora folds herself down onto the bench as if her bones have suddenly gone soft, dragging a pillow into her arms and clutching it against her chest while one knee curls up defensively. At first she almost laughs, almost waits for the dry twist of humour that Hadama has always carried like sea-glass glinting under the waves, but it never comes. Instead she finds only truth in his words, heavy and unyielding, and it makes her blink several times as if her lashes can keep the world from shifting under her feet.
"Right," she murmurs, the single word pushed out distantly, because though she’s listening, her mind is buzzing, soft panic skating beneath her ribs. Still, when his hand turns toward her, she places hers in it, stiff fingers cold and small against his warmth. She clears her throat, tries to find her way back into her body as she looks up to meet his gaze.
Her cheeks flush with colour but she forces a smile, nodding because he hasn't left her any room to argue. Whatever storms she feels, they’ll belong to her alone until she can spill them later, probably all over Kaisel. For Hadama, she smooths herself out, pulling in a breath and letting her lips curve into something steadier. "Torchline’s going to miss having you at her healm," she says, quiet but certain. Then, tilting her head, she lets the playfulness spark again, a thin shield over the ache. "And just so you know, when our next RQ is all pagentry and fireworks around the island? You'll only have yourself to blame."
"Right," she murmurs, the single word pushed out distantly, because though she’s listening, her mind is buzzing, soft panic skating beneath her ribs. Still, when his hand turns toward her, she places hers in it, stiff fingers cold and small against his warmth. She clears her throat, tries to find her way back into her body as she looks up to meet his gaze.
Her cheeks flush with colour but she forces a smile, nodding because he hasn't left her any room to argue. Whatever storms she feels, they’ll belong to her alone until she can spill them later, probably all over Kaisel. For Hadama, she smooths herself out, pulling in a breath and letting her lips curve into something steadier. "Torchline’s going to miss having you at her healm," she says, quiet but certain. Then, tilting her head, she lets the playfulness spark again, a thin shield over the ache. "And just so you know, when our next RQ is all pagentry and fireworks around the island? You'll only have yourself to blame."
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
