flora
"You absolutely were," Flora replies without hesitation, her voice wrapped in laughter and certainty as her eyes gleam with mischief. "Anyway, as long as you stay on Nonna’s good side—which I realise is only slightly easier than surviving a hawk attack from a grumpy demigod—I don’t see why you couldn’t come back again."
A thought flickers in her chest before she can guard against it, and she shrugs casually, like it costs her nothing to say it aloud. "I’m planning on freeing my twin from Mort's realm soon," she adds, her voice lighter than the words deserve, almost breezy in their delivery. "So if all goes well, maybe my dad won’t be so frugal with the visitation slots after that."
Her smile returns as she glances back at him, lifting her brows in a challenge that sparkles more than it stings. "You guarantee a good time?" she echoes, clearly delighted. "Dangerous words." And yet she believes him without question, the easy confidence in his stride matching the tone in his voice, drawing her into step beside him with ease.
Another laugh slips from her lips as he picks up the pace, a soft huff that’s more affection than mockery. "I only meant I wasn’t sure if your muscles would’ve atrophied in Mort’s realm," she teases, sweeping a critical glance over him, as if evaluating whether death has dulled any of his charm or posture. "But I stand corrected."
The boardwalk glows beneath their steps as the sun sinks lower, salt-laced air brushing against her skin with warm familiarity. Just ahead, the bar emerges like a well-kept secret nestled into the beach, its white stone façade softened by flowering vines and framed in sleek black windows that reveal a glimpse of the interior: pale wood, soft marble, and curved pockets of low seating lit by candlelight. Glass lanterns flicker to life above the entrance, their amber glow reflected in the polished door, and from somewhere inside, a string quartet plays low and sultry, each note weaving through the evening like silk.
"It’s one of my favourites," she says quietly. "Mostly locals, very few idiots, and the wine list’s actually been curated instead of copied off someone’s wall."
A thought flickers in her chest before she can guard against it, and she shrugs casually, like it costs her nothing to say it aloud. "I’m planning on freeing my twin from Mort's realm soon," she adds, her voice lighter than the words deserve, almost breezy in their delivery. "So if all goes well, maybe my dad won’t be so frugal with the visitation slots after that."
Her smile returns as she glances back at him, lifting her brows in a challenge that sparkles more than it stings. "You guarantee a good time?" she echoes, clearly delighted. "Dangerous words." And yet she believes him without question, the easy confidence in his stride matching the tone in his voice, drawing her into step beside him with ease.
Another laugh slips from her lips as he picks up the pace, a soft huff that’s more affection than mockery. "I only meant I wasn’t sure if your muscles would’ve atrophied in Mort’s realm," she teases, sweeping a critical glance over him, as if evaluating whether death has dulled any of his charm or posture. "But I stand corrected."
The boardwalk glows beneath their steps as the sun sinks lower, salt-laced air brushing against her skin with warm familiarity. Just ahead, the bar emerges like a well-kept secret nestled into the beach, its white stone façade softened by flowering vines and framed in sleek black windows that reveal a glimpse of the interior: pale wood, soft marble, and curved pockets of low seating lit by candlelight. Glass lanterns flicker to life above the entrance, their amber glow reflected in the polished door, and from somewhere inside, a string quartet plays low and sultry, each note weaving through the evening like silk.
"It’s one of my favourites," she says quietly. "Mostly locals, very few idiots, and the wine list’s actually been curated instead of copied off someone’s wall."
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart
you're either falling in love or falling apart
