flora
She laughs, head tilting with playful deliberation as she scrunches her nose like she’s weighing a serious decision. "Not a dealbreaker," she allows with a sigh that suggests it just barely passed, before her lips part into a dramatic, wide-eyed look of mock dismay. "But...you’re definitely on thin ice," she purrs teasingly.
The grin that follows softens as she watches him try to faint with all the tragic elegance of a hel on a sunbaked pier, and she shakes her head fondly. "Obviously I’d beat up anyone who tried to suck on any part of you," she assures with a scoff, her voice light but honest beneath the joke, because the idea of someone laying claim to him without consent crawls under her skin in a way that makes her jaw tighten. The heat of that protectiveness doesn’t have time to rise fully before it’s swept away by the bright flare of his joy, that startled, golden laughter bubbling out around the world she'd so casually tossed out. The word echoes inside her like a struck bell, and she can’t help but beam down at him as he lifts her hand, her heart caught up in his surprise, her smile blooming wide and a little giddy as he presses his lips to her knuckles like some old-world romantic. She had said she wanted to take things slow, had meant it and still did, but gods, they were already halfway to everything, wrapped up in one another like this. What good did it do to try and pretend like they weren't?
When he mentions her boyfriend’s muscles, she raises an eyebrow and immediately presses down into his forearm as if checking a melon for ripeness. "No, no," she says with mock solemnity, correcting him as if he’s made an obvious error. "I want you to be my boyfriend." She lets her words trail off with a crooked smile and a deliberate shrug, the implication as clear as the sun through the shutters: if the guy with the muscles was her boyfriend, then clearly it couldn't be Kai.
Her laughter bubbles again as he pleads for another show, but instead of obliging, she widens her eyes and fixes him with an exaggerated look of scandal. "Tell me something else then," she challenges, voice purring low as she shifts slightly against him, the arch of her back unapologetic beneath the slow stroke of his hands. Her shirt rides higher with every lazy touch, and she hums thoughtfully as her skin tingles beneath his fingers. Having not found anything cozy to wear was perhaps not as bad as it had initially seemed.
She means to keep talking, to pivot into the idea of showing him the Thieves Guild in earnest, but the words stick slightly, catching against the small knot of hesitation that tightens in her chest. Her cheeks colour faintly as she glances away, the thought of returning to the Hanged Man prickling with complications, the most prominent of which wears Calypso’s face. Clearing her throat, she leans down and gently brushes back a lock of his hair, even though it doesn’t need fixing, her fingers tracing over his temple like she just needed an excuse to be closer. "You’re probably right," she murmurs, her voice softer now as her hand drifts down to his cheek. "I really should move it."
Her fingers scratch gently at his scalp, nails feather-light as she watches his expression shift beneath her touch, her tone low but steady when she asks, "Wanna help me? You know...after things are taken care of?" The shape of the word is careful, deliberately vague. Flora hadn't even been able to face Jack, so she certainly wasn't going to rush Kaisel when it came to having his own hard conversationesp since the thread is already started.
The grin that follows softens as she watches him try to faint with all the tragic elegance of a hel on a sunbaked pier, and she shakes her head fondly. "Obviously I’d beat up anyone who tried to suck on any part of you," she assures with a scoff, her voice light but honest beneath the joke, because the idea of someone laying claim to him without consent crawls under her skin in a way that makes her jaw tighten. The heat of that protectiveness doesn’t have time to rise fully before it’s swept away by the bright flare of his joy, that startled, golden laughter bubbling out around the world she'd so casually tossed out. The word echoes inside her like a struck bell, and she can’t help but beam down at him as he lifts her hand, her heart caught up in his surprise, her smile blooming wide and a little giddy as he presses his lips to her knuckles like some old-world romantic. She had said she wanted to take things slow, had meant it and still did, but gods, they were already halfway to everything, wrapped up in one another like this. What good did it do to try and pretend like they weren't?
When he mentions her boyfriend’s muscles, she raises an eyebrow and immediately presses down into his forearm as if checking a melon for ripeness. "No, no," she says with mock solemnity, correcting him as if he’s made an obvious error. "I want you to be my boyfriend." She lets her words trail off with a crooked smile and a deliberate shrug, the implication as clear as the sun through the shutters: if the guy with the muscles was her boyfriend, then clearly it couldn't be Kai.
Her laughter bubbles again as he pleads for another show, but instead of obliging, she widens her eyes and fixes him with an exaggerated look of scandal. "Tell me something else then," she challenges, voice purring low as she shifts slightly against him, the arch of her back unapologetic beneath the slow stroke of his hands. Her shirt rides higher with every lazy touch, and she hums thoughtfully as her skin tingles beneath his fingers. Having not found anything cozy to wear was perhaps not as bad as it had initially seemed.
She means to keep talking, to pivot into the idea of showing him the Thieves Guild in earnest, but the words stick slightly, catching against the small knot of hesitation that tightens in her chest. Her cheeks colour faintly as she glances away, the thought of returning to the Hanged Man prickling with complications, the most prominent of which wears Calypso’s face. Clearing her throat, she leans down and gently brushes back a lock of his hair, even though it doesn’t need fixing, her fingers tracing over his temple like she just needed an excuse to be closer. "You’re probably right," she murmurs, her voice softer now as her hand drifts down to his cheek. "I really should move it."
Her fingers scratch gently at his scalp, nails feather-light as she watches his expression shift beneath her touch, her tone low but steady when she asks, "Wanna help me? You know...after things are taken care of?" The shape of the word is careful, deliberately vague. Flora hadn't even been able to face Jack, so she certainly wasn't going to rush Kaisel when it came to having his own hard conversation
lust's a liar, a short lived fire
it isn't what you and I are at all
it isn't what you and I are at all
