flora
Flora shrugs, the motion fluid, unbothered, though the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth says otherwise. "I try to be a good student," she says with an airy sort of ease, flicking her gaze up from beneath her lashes to meet his. "As long as the subject matter’s interesting, anyway."
His mention of flowers earns him a laugh, bright and sweet as she tips her head to one side in mock scolding. "You’ve more than lived up to my expectations," she assures (and not just because she'd originally had none). But then, with a dramatized roll of her eyes and a quick flare of her fingers, she adds, "Though for the record, since I do have a boyfriend, this isn’t a date, so no flowers required."
That declaration doesn’t stop her from looking at the daisy blooming in her wineglass, of course. She tries, she really tries not to smile at it, but it’s impossible. Her lips curve before she can stop them, warmth spreading from her chest to her cheeks. She lifts the glass, draining what remains in a single, elegant tilt, only to cough softly as the wine hits a little too suddenly. "Didn’t want your flower to water it down," she says with a crooked smile, flicking a curl behind her ear as she sets the glass down.
But then her posture softens, the humour giving way to something more honest. "Gods," she chuckles. "The first time I met you, I’d never even kissed anyone before." Her fingers curl lightly around the base of her empty glass, eyes lowering briefly before lifting again with a soft sort of brightness. "And then there you were. Swooping in like some sinfully dressed hero to save me from an excruciatingly boring night."
A quiet chuckle leaves her, nose scrunching. "I’m sure you didn’t think twice about it, but I definitely thought about you after that."
His mention of flowers earns him a laugh, bright and sweet as she tips her head to one side in mock scolding. "You’ve more than lived up to my expectations," she assures (and not just because she'd originally had none). But then, with a dramatized roll of her eyes and a quick flare of her fingers, she adds, "Though for the record, since I do have a boyfriend, this isn’t a date, so no flowers required."
That declaration doesn’t stop her from looking at the daisy blooming in her wineglass, of course. She tries, she really tries not to smile at it, but it’s impossible. Her lips curve before she can stop them, warmth spreading from her chest to her cheeks. She lifts the glass, draining what remains in a single, elegant tilt, only to cough softly as the wine hits a little too suddenly. "Didn’t want your flower to water it down," she says with a crooked smile, flicking a curl behind her ear as she sets the glass down.
But then her posture softens, the humour giving way to something more honest. "Gods," she chuckles. "The first time I met you, I’d never even kissed anyone before." Her fingers curl lightly around the base of her empty glass, eyes lowering briefly before lifting again with a soft sort of brightness. "And then there you were. Swooping in like some sinfully dressed hero to save me from an excruciatingly boring night."
A quiet chuckle leaves her, nose scrunching. "I’m sure you didn’t think twice about it, but I definitely thought about you after that."
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
