you can call me honey if you want
A lopsided, thoroughly mischievous grin curves Flora’s lips as Kaisel takes her hand, his fingers warm and seaweed-slicked against her skin. "One day," she murmurs, voice dipped low like a secret passed through candlelight, "I’ll tell you all the things I do to take my mind off it, when I miss you too much." Her thumb traces the edge of his wrist, delicate and slow, as her grin turned suggestive and pleased.
As talk drifts back to their hypothetical moonlit escapades, her shoulders lift in a delighted shrug, aqua eyes dancing. Nudity doesn’t faze her—never has—and the heat clinging to Torchline’s nights makes modesty more of a costume than necessity. "Sounds like you just need to be nude on the beach all the time," she teases, gaze glinting as she leans a little closer. "Don’t worry. I’ll join you. Strictly for moral support, of course." Though the wink she gives him says otherwise.
Then comes the manicure, the mood shifting like tidefoam turning glassy. Each kiss he rolls over her knuckles softens her expression, her lashes lowering slightly as if to trap the moment between them. The brightness doesn’t fade, it just gentles, transforming into something quieter. Her brow lifts just a little, her mouth twitching with fond remembrance. "Do you remember the last time you painted my nails?"
Snorting at the idea that anyone might confuse her for him, Flora lifts her other hand and wiggles her fingers in faux-masculine fashion. "Just because I dress like you doesn’t mean I style like you," she retorts, grin flashing. "Dark or not, if anyone mistakes me for you, they'd better be blind." Her smile softens again as she glances down at the tools in his hand, then up at his face. "Anyway...I probably have to do some work during LongNight anyhow, so if I do get volunteered for a patrol it won't be that big a deal."
As talk drifts back to their hypothetical moonlit escapades, her shoulders lift in a delighted shrug, aqua eyes dancing. Nudity doesn’t faze her—never has—and the heat clinging to Torchline’s nights makes modesty more of a costume than necessity. "Sounds like you just need to be nude on the beach all the time," she teases, gaze glinting as she leans a little closer. "Don’t worry. I’ll join you. Strictly for moral support, of course." Though the wink she gives him says otherwise.
Then comes the manicure, the mood shifting like tidefoam turning glassy. Each kiss he rolls over her knuckles softens her expression, her lashes lowering slightly as if to trap the moment between them. The brightness doesn’t fade, it just gentles, transforming into something quieter. Her brow lifts just a little, her mouth twitching with fond remembrance. "Do you remember the last time you painted my nails?"
Snorting at the idea that anyone might confuse her for him, Flora lifts her other hand and wiggles her fingers in faux-masculine fashion. "Just because I dress like you doesn’t mean I style like you," she retorts, grin flashing. "Dark or not, if anyone mistakes me for you, they'd better be blind." Her smile softens again as she glances down at the tools in his hand, then up at his face. "Anyway...I probably have to do some work during LongNight anyhow, so if I do get volunteered for a patrol it won't be that big a deal."
