you can call me honey if you want
Flora wrinkles her nose with dramatic flair, like he’s just said something absolutely unholy. "Girthy? Ew, never say that ever again," she groans with the most offended lilt she can manage, aqua eyes widening to match. Then, naturally, the grin creeps back in, lips curling as she leans slightly closer and nods slowly. "Ahhh. Okay. That clears it up." Her tone is all mock-seriousness, but the twinkle in her eyes makes it clear she’s filing the phrasing away for some devastating future moment.
She straightens slightly as if gathering decorum, chin tipping upward. "My whole life does not revolve around you, you know," she declares with feigned haughtiness, hand fluttering to her chest. Her lashes flick upward, mouth twitching into something warmer. Then, with a softer kind of amusement threading her voice, she adds, "It is kinda crazy, though. How many things had to go exactly wrong and just right to get us to here."
Her train of thought derails with a startled snort as Kaisel reenacts a dramatic, slow-motion drowning on dry land. She watches him with folded arms and an expression that straddles fondness and unrepentant smugness. As he clutches her hand like a martyr, she quirks a brow, skeptical. "Was it, though?" she challenges, though her voice is light. "Because maybe, if you’d just told me you liked me back then, we could’ve skipped the whole Caly–Jack interlude."
She lets him get back to her nails, but only just, as her lashes flutter dramatically as if calling forth divine inspiration. "Hmmmmm," she hums, lips twitching. "As much as I love how long your shirts are on me when I sleep, I’d probably tie one at the waist. Or just crop it and call it a day." Her nose crinkles again, though this time with amusement. "Pretty sure I have a cute backpack that would match, and I could try and do my curls forward like yours. Sort of a messy boyband moment."
Then he drops the “one-on-one meeting” line and Flora lets out an EWWWWUH that comes straight from the pit of her dramatic soul. She lifts her freshly base-coated hand in warning, wiggling her fingers like a sea witch about to hex him. "You’re this close to getting flicked in the nose," she warns, but the snicker that follows undermines the threat entirely, especially as her voice lowers. "Why? You think you deserve a raise?" Her smirk curves with dangerous promise. "Or were you hoping for a detailed critique of your job performance?"
She straightens slightly as if gathering decorum, chin tipping upward. "My whole life does not revolve around you, you know," she declares with feigned haughtiness, hand fluttering to her chest. Her lashes flick upward, mouth twitching into something warmer. Then, with a softer kind of amusement threading her voice, she adds, "It is kinda crazy, though. How many things had to go exactly wrong and just right to get us to here."
Her train of thought derails with a startled snort as Kaisel reenacts a dramatic, slow-motion drowning on dry land. She watches him with folded arms and an expression that straddles fondness and unrepentant smugness. As he clutches her hand like a martyr, she quirks a brow, skeptical. "Was it, though?" she challenges, though her voice is light. "Because maybe, if you’d just told me you liked me back then, we could’ve skipped the whole Caly–Jack interlude."
She lets him get back to her nails, but only just, as her lashes flutter dramatically as if calling forth divine inspiration. "Hmmmmm," she hums, lips twitching. "As much as I love how long your shirts are on me when I sleep, I’d probably tie one at the waist. Or just crop it and call it a day." Her nose crinkles again, though this time with amusement. "Pretty sure I have a cute backpack that would match, and I could try and do my curls forward like yours. Sort of a messy boyband moment."
Then he drops the “one-on-one meeting” line and Flora lets out an EWWWWUH that comes straight from the pit of her dramatic soul. She lifts her freshly base-coated hand in warning, wiggling her fingers like a sea witch about to hex him. "You’re this close to getting flicked in the nose," she warns, but the snicker that follows undermines the threat entirely, especially as her voice lowers. "Why? You think you deserve a raise?" Her smirk curves with dangerous promise. "Or were you hoping for a detailed critique of your job performance?"
