you can call me honey if you want
Flora shrugs as Kai questions what kind of fork she might be, the casual roll of her shoulder suggesting that whether she’s a dinner fork or a salad one, it’s all part of the same absurd quiz he’s now obligated to answer correctly. Her grin tugs wider the longer he thinks, already savouring the trap he’s wandered into with a kind of fond, predatory amusement. So when he finally offers his answer, she narrows her eyes with slow, theatrical offense, lips twitching despite herself. He’s the one who started this, she only asked a simple question. He’s the one who braided the rope, tested its strength, slipped the noose around his neck, and then stepped on the stool all on his own. Who is she if not the one to kick it out from under him?
Gasping as if he’s wounded her deeply, she clutches a hand to her heart through the soft fold of her robe, shaking her head with exaggerated dismay. "Wow, really? First of all, insulting you'd pick something that I can't provide you with on my own. I guess this is your way of saying I'm not good enough for you? Or not enough for you on my own??" Her voice lilts with feigned heartbreak, her gaze gleaming far too brightly to be taken seriously. "And don’t even get me started on this little cutlery threesome of yours. I wouldn’t even mind a third, but you didn’t just want me with someone else—you wanted me shoved into their meat, Kaisel."
Her scandalised stare is no less delighted as she swans slowly across the room toward him, the lemon on her robe pocket bouncing gently with each step. She’s nearly within arm’s reach by the time he changes his answer, and that’s when she halts, her expression shifting into one of cautious suspicion. "Ice cream, huh?" Her nose wrinkles as she tips her head, hands resting on her hips. "Tell me something. Do you...chew your ice cream?" Suddenly her tone is deadly serious. "Because I swear, if you do, that might actually be a dealbreaker."
Gasping as if he’s wounded her deeply, she clutches a hand to her heart through the soft fold of her robe, shaking her head with exaggerated dismay. "Wow, really? First of all, insulting you'd pick something that I can't provide you with on my own. I guess this is your way of saying I'm not good enough for you? Or not enough for you on my own??" Her voice lilts with feigned heartbreak, her gaze gleaming far too brightly to be taken seriously. "And don’t even get me started on this little cutlery threesome of yours. I wouldn’t even mind a third, but you didn’t just want me with someone else—you wanted me shoved into their meat, Kaisel."
Her scandalised stare is no less delighted as she swans slowly across the room toward him, the lemon on her robe pocket bouncing gently with each step. She’s nearly within arm’s reach by the time he changes his answer, and that’s when she halts, her expression shifting into one of cautious suspicion. "Ice cream, huh?" Her nose wrinkles as she tips her head, hands resting on her hips. "Tell me something. Do you...chew your ice cream?" Suddenly her tone is deadly serious. "Because I swear, if you do, that might actually be a dealbreaker."
