Flora
Flora only scrunches her nose at him, that too-charmed, too-satisfied expression practically a trademark by now. It's the look of a woman deeply pleased that someone’s finally come around to her way of seeing things. She doesn’t need to say a word to confirm it: yes, she’s persuasive. Yes, he’s stayed. And no, there is absolutely no point in fighting her once she’s decided something’s going to happen. The spirits have learned it. The house has learned it. Niki’s just joining the glitter parade.
She gasps theatrically as he jokes about ditching her, eyes going wide like she’s just been betrayed in a soap opera. "Gasp," she huffs, pressing a hand to her chest like the very idea wounds her. But her lashes flutter and the corners of her mouth twitch up with something far more mischievous. "Although...Torchline is crawling with visitors during LongNight," she muses aloud, like a matchmaking bee buzzing with possibility. "You never know, Niki. You could run into some mysterious stranger on the beach. Tan, tall, carrying a tragic backstory and a bottle of rum. You’d be the arm candy, obviously, and they could do the feet-sweeping." Her grin turns sharp and playful as she bumps her elbow lightly against his.
When he relieves her of the jellyfish umbrella, Flora hums her thanks, twirling one of the chroma torches in her hand like a baton. "A lemon-carrying backpack for Spice would be adorable," she agrees, voice rising with interest and delight. "If it’s not too much trouble, and if you’ve got whatever you need, that would seriously be amazing. She’d be so proud of herself—like a little frosty sommelier."
Her eyes roll with faux exhaustion as he mentions the house reclaiming their scavenged treasures, but it’s clearly more amusement than complaint. "Ugh, you’re probably right," she sighs. "Come on then, let’s go rescue the blanket before it sprouts legs."
She gasps theatrically as he jokes about ditching her, eyes going wide like she’s just been betrayed in a soap opera. "Gasp," she huffs, pressing a hand to her chest like the very idea wounds her. But her lashes flutter and the corners of her mouth twitch up with something far more mischievous. "Although...Torchline is crawling with visitors during LongNight," she muses aloud, like a matchmaking bee buzzing with possibility. "You never know, Niki. You could run into some mysterious stranger on the beach. Tan, tall, carrying a tragic backstory and a bottle of rum. You’d be the arm candy, obviously, and they could do the feet-sweeping." Her grin turns sharp and playful as she bumps her elbow lightly against his.
When he relieves her of the jellyfish umbrella, Flora hums her thanks, twirling one of the chroma torches in her hand like a baton. "A lemon-carrying backpack for Spice would be adorable," she agrees, voice rising with interest and delight. "If it’s not too much trouble, and if you’ve got whatever you need, that would seriously be amazing. She’d be so proud of herself—like a little frosty sommelier."
Her eyes roll with faux exhaustion as he mentions the house reclaiming their scavenged treasures, but it’s clearly more amusement than complaint. "Ugh, you’re probably right," she sighs. "Come on then, let’s go rescue the blanket before it sprouts legs."
passion is a passing thing, it's accidental chemistry
caught up in a feelin', it can be deceivin'.
this is like breaking for me
caught up in a feelin', it can be deceivin'.
this is like breaking for me
Code stolen from Queen Sky
