flora
Flora blinks slowly at the question in Neron's tone, lips twitching like she can’t decide whether she’s amused or baffled. "I have no idea," she admits, shoulders lifting slightly as her brows follow. "Ronin and I didn’t exactly get along when I was younger, and...I guess as an adult, we’ve never really talked about where he lived before Caido." There’s a pause, quiet but not uncomfortable, before she glances sideways with a shrug and a crooked little smile at the mention of Northwind and Northaven, having utterly no idea what the connection between the words was meant to be.
But thankfully, there’s wine, and crackers, and Neron’s completely ridiculous take on fashion to soften the edges of unfamiliar names. "Surely even a Duke needs to change his clothes," she murmurs with a snort, reaching for another thin slice of cheese as her fingers trail along the rim of her new glass. "Even if it’s just to switch into the exact same outfit."
The word date has her faltering—not visibly, not in any way that might break the easy rhythm of their banter—but it settles in her chest like a pebble tossed into still water. Her smile doesn’t vanish, but it does shift, softening at the edges as she tilts her head slightly to one side. "I thought you were only here because Vai thought I needed cheering up?" she asks lightly, not quite teasing but not heavy either, threading humour through the truth.
She takes a sip of her wine; long, slow, grateful for the excuse to let the moment breathe before easing back into safer waters. "But anyway," she says, nudging at the thought he’d left dangling, "you’re not temporarily living, right? You’ve just been...let through." Her finger draws a lazy circle in the air, like the veil between life and death is just a curtain she might someday part. "So maybe it could work the same way in reverse. Maybe I wouldn’t have to die, just...visit."
But thankfully, there’s wine, and crackers, and Neron’s completely ridiculous take on fashion to soften the edges of unfamiliar names. "Surely even a Duke needs to change his clothes," she murmurs with a snort, reaching for another thin slice of cheese as her fingers trail along the rim of her new glass. "Even if it’s just to switch into the exact same outfit."
The word date has her faltering—not visibly, not in any way that might break the easy rhythm of their banter—but it settles in her chest like a pebble tossed into still water. Her smile doesn’t vanish, but it does shift, softening at the edges as she tilts her head slightly to one side. "I thought you were only here because Vai thought I needed cheering up?" she asks lightly, not quite teasing but not heavy either, threading humour through the truth.
She takes a sip of her wine; long, slow, grateful for the excuse to let the moment breathe before easing back into safer waters. "But anyway," she says, nudging at the thought he’d left dangling, "you’re not temporarily living, right? You’ve just been...let through." Her finger draws a lazy circle in the air, like the veil between life and death is just a curtain she might someday part. "So maybe it could work the same way in reverse. Maybe I wouldn’t have to die, just...visit."
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
