you can call me honey if you want
"Fine, fine," Flora groans beneath the cucumbers, rolling her eyes though he can’t see it, the corners of her mouth tugging upward in a grin that refuses to be quelled. "The Sugartide was definitely the first time you kissed me back." Her voice softens with the admission, dipping into something reverent at the edges of memory. The truth of it lives in the air between them, like salt hanging after a wave breaks; moonlight on their skin, his hands steady against her hips, the moment slower than it should’ve been. Realer than it had any right to be.
When he brushes off her accusation of torture, her breath catches on a sound halfway between a whine and a laugh, playful exasperation worn like a perfume. "I hate you," she huffs under her breath, though the words carry the weight of a thousand I love yous in the spaces between them.
The first stroke of the warmed clay is a jolt and a balm, and she shivers beneath the brush like a creature stirring beneath sun-warmed sand. "Mmmm," she breathes, rolling her shoulders to dispel the heat still simmering in her belly, every nerve sensitised from the attention he’d just stolen with his mouth and fingers. Still, she obeys as he requests, shifting with a slow, feline stretch to lay onto her stomach, the cucumbers slipping from her face like fallen leaves. Before sinking fully into the nest of towels, she tilts her chin toward him and shoots him a look that smoulders with lazy affection and unmistakable hunger, something wordless that promises she’s not done with him, just biding her time.
When the cloth presses against her shoulders and upper back, Flora moans again, softer this time, the sound half-melted into a sigh as the warmth seeps into muscles that never quite release their hold. At his question, she lays her cheek on the crook of one arm, her voice quieter now, more distant, like something peeled gently from memory. "When I was little, Ronin took me to meet Queen Maeve." Her lips lift faintly at the edges. "She was unlike anyone I’d ever seen before. So confident and regal and—herself. I think I idolised her for years. Even after I grew up, I still respected the hell out of her."
Her hand drifts absentmindedly across the towel beside her, fingers feathering toward her jaw as if brushing away an old version of herself. "When Hadama asked who should rule with him, I think...honestly I think I deserved it just because I wanted it. I thought I could balance out Hadama and that my family would be able to protect Torcholine better than any grouping of soldiers ever could, but more than that..I think I thought I just deserved to be a queen, like Maeve was." A sigh escapes her, more wistful than bitter. "I was only twenty, so no matter how much of it was true, no one really took me seriously."
Though Kaisel's hands never stop moving, lavishing care against her curves, her voice dips again, a little rougher now as old wounds resurface. "The guy who ran against me, Harper, said some really shitty things during the campaign. About me. About my family." She swallows, gaze flicking toward Kaisel from the corner of her eye. "He said if we were all so strong, how had we let Enzo die in the war?" She bites the inside of her cheek as his hand trails low, the intimacy of the moment at odds with the naked honesty spilling from her mouth. "It lit something in me. I wanted to prove him wrong, that I wasn't the entitled brat he made me out to be. I wanted to prove everyone who voted for him and against me, wrong."
Flora's exhale is shaky when it comes. "When Harper abdicated a year later, I went to Hadama and told him I wanted the job." She shifts slightly, looking at Kaisel more fully now, unguarded and unashamed. "He told me he wasn’t sure, that he’d have to think about it." Her cheeks flush again, not with arousal this time, but something closer to regret, maybe even shame. "I was ready to take it if he said no. There were...plans in place to remove him, if he didn't agree." Her voice lowers as she lays her cheek back down, lashes brushing her arm as her eyes slip shut again. "And now...here I am. All these years later, finally ruling alone, the way I thought I always wanted."
The silence that follows is deep, golden, full of things not said. And still, she breathes easier knowing it’s him touching her now, him listening and hearing it all, even though before now, aside from those, Flora had never admitted this plan to anyone.
When he brushes off her accusation of torture, her breath catches on a sound halfway between a whine and a laugh, playful exasperation worn like a perfume. "I hate you," she huffs under her breath, though the words carry the weight of a thousand I love yous in the spaces between them.
The first stroke of the warmed clay is a jolt and a balm, and she shivers beneath the brush like a creature stirring beneath sun-warmed sand. "Mmmm," she breathes, rolling her shoulders to dispel the heat still simmering in her belly, every nerve sensitised from the attention he’d just stolen with his mouth and fingers. Still, she obeys as he requests, shifting with a slow, feline stretch to lay onto her stomach, the cucumbers slipping from her face like fallen leaves. Before sinking fully into the nest of towels, she tilts her chin toward him and shoots him a look that smoulders with lazy affection and unmistakable hunger, something wordless that promises she’s not done with him, just biding her time.
When the cloth presses against her shoulders and upper back, Flora moans again, softer this time, the sound half-melted into a sigh as the warmth seeps into muscles that never quite release their hold. At his question, she lays her cheek on the crook of one arm, her voice quieter now, more distant, like something peeled gently from memory. "When I was little, Ronin took me to meet Queen Maeve." Her lips lift faintly at the edges. "She was unlike anyone I’d ever seen before. So confident and regal and—herself. I think I idolised her for years. Even after I grew up, I still respected the hell out of her."
Her hand drifts absentmindedly across the towel beside her, fingers feathering toward her jaw as if brushing away an old version of herself. "When Hadama asked who should rule with him, I think...honestly I think I deserved it just because I wanted it. I thought I could balance out Hadama and that my family would be able to protect Torcholine better than any grouping of soldiers ever could, but more than that..I think I thought I just deserved to be a queen, like Maeve was." A sigh escapes her, more wistful than bitter. "I was only twenty, so no matter how much of it was true, no one really took me seriously."
Though Kaisel's hands never stop moving, lavishing care against her curves, her voice dips again, a little rougher now as old wounds resurface. "The guy who ran against me, Harper, said some really shitty things during the campaign. About me. About my family." She swallows, gaze flicking toward Kaisel from the corner of her eye. "He said if we were all so strong, how had we let Enzo die in the war?" She bites the inside of her cheek as his hand trails low, the intimacy of the moment at odds with the naked honesty spilling from her mouth. "It lit something in me. I wanted to prove him wrong, that I wasn't the entitled brat he made me out to be. I wanted to prove everyone who voted for him and against me, wrong."
Flora's exhale is shaky when it comes. "When Harper abdicated a year later, I went to Hadama and told him I wanted the job." She shifts slightly, looking at Kaisel more fully now, unguarded and unashamed. "He told me he wasn’t sure, that he’d have to think about it." Her cheeks flush again, not with arousal this time, but something closer to regret, maybe even shame. "I was ready to take it if he said no. There were...plans in place to remove him, if he didn't agree." Her voice lowers as she lays her cheek back down, lashes brushing her arm as her eyes slip shut again. "And now...here I am. All these years later, finally ruling alone, the way I thought I always wanted."
The silence that follows is deep, golden, full of things not said. And still, she breathes easier knowing it’s him touching her now, him listening and hearing it all, even though before now, aside from those, Flora had never admitted this plan to anyone.
